SAN  DIEGO 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA.  SAN  DIEGO 


3  1822  00730  0361 


Central  University  Library 

University  of  California,  San  Diego 
Note:  This  item  is  subject  to  recall  after  two  weeks. 

Date  Due 

NOV  16  1391 

NOV  0  9  189^ 

0139(1/91)                                                                 UCSDLib. 

S5 


FROM    BERLIN    TO    BAGDAD 


Books  by 
GEORGE  ABEL  SCHREINER 

THE  IRON  RATION 

FROM  BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS,  NEW  YORK 

[EaTABLI8BBD  1817] 


Coi/'jrifjhl,  liy    I   li'li 


HAUUOK    SCENE    AT    CONSTANTINOPLE 

ConfliU'iiw  of  th<'  flolilin  H<.rii  ritiii  Bosphoriis  as  s<rn  from  NiniRar  Quay,  Stamboul. 
In  normal  timcii  the  wimrwavH  .,f  the  (nturiian  rapilal  an-  aniont;  the  busiest  any- 
wb<if.  ttTcommixlatinK  7.sl»).()(H)  reiciNter  tons  of  forL-inn  and  4,4.'>(J,(Jf)0  rfitister  tons  of 
local  lihipping.      In  the  backKround  lies  Pera,  the  European  quarter  of  Constantinople. 


FROM    BERLIN 
TO  BAGDAD 

Behind   the   Scenes 
in    the    Near    East 

BY 
GEORGE  ABEL  SCHREINER 

Author  of 
"the  iron  ration" 


HARPER  &   BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 


From  Berlin  to  Bagdad 


CopyriKht.  1918,  by  Harper  &  Brothers 

Prinled  in  the  tJnited  Slates  of  America 

Published  September,  1918 


TO 

my  dear  friends 
Mary   and    Max    Smith 


CONTENTS 


CHAP. 


PAGE 


Preface ^ 

I.  In  the  Nature  of  a  Prologue 1 

II.  What  Some  Turks  Thought  of  the  Situation     ,  29 

III.  At  the  Shell-raked  D.\kdanelles 63 

IV.  When  the  Allied  Fleet  Foozled 107 

V.  An  Audience  with  the  Sultan 152 

VI.  Armenia's  Red  Caravan  of  Sorrow 183 

VII.  In  the  Land  of  Ruins  and  Romance 214 

VIII.  Some  Curious  People  and  Odd  Events  ....  251 

IX.  A  Little  Trip  to  "Hell"ipoli 281 

X.  Some  Other  Turkish  Viewpoints 316 

XI.  The  Inferno  of  Suvla  Bay 339 

XII.  Conclusion 351 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Harbor  Scene  at  Constantinople       Frontispiece 

A  Street  in  Pera Facina  p.  40 

German  Officers  at  the  Dardanelles  ....  "  72 

EssAD  Pasha,  Turkish  Commander  at  Ariburnu  .  "  72 

Turkish  Battery  Captured  by  Armenian  Com- 

itadjes  at  Van "  182 

Ottoman    Recruits    Going    Toward    Bagdad    on 

Tigris  River "  220 

Ottoman  Troops  Off  for  the  Front  on  Gallipoli  ' '  270 

Turkish  Troops  in  the  Great  Syrian  Desert    .  "  300 

Camel  Military  Train  in  Maidos,  Gallipoli      .  "  300 

Greek    Home    on    the    Byzantian  Wall      ...  "  324 

Street  Scene  in  Fyndykly "  324 


PREFACE 

I  SPENT  nine  months  in  warring  Turkey  as  war 
and  general  correspondent  of  the  Associated  Press 
of  America. 

In  that  capacity  I  described,  anonjrmously — 
for  that  is  the  policy  of  this  news-gathering  or- 
ganization— the  operations  of  the  Allied  naval  and 
military  forces  against  the  Dardanelles  and  the 
peninsula  of  Gallipoli. 

Later  I  had  occasion  to  go  toward  Arabia.  While 
on  that  trip  I  became  an  eye-witness  to  a  part 
of  what  is  now  known  as  the  Armenian  crisis. 

During  my  stay  at  Constantinople  I  had  an 
audience  with  the  Sultan  and  was  received,  as 
occasion  required,  by  the  leaders  of  the  Young 
Turk  government — Prince  Saiid  Halim  Pasha, 
Grand  Vizier;  Enver  Pasha,  Minister  of  War  and 
Vice-Generalissimo  of  the  Ottoman  army;  Talaat 
Bey,  then  Minister  of  the  Interior  and  now  Grand 
Vizier  and  Pasha. 

At  the  front  I  met  Field-marshal  Liman  von 
Sanders  Pasha,  the  man  in  charge  of  the  defense 
of  Gallip)oli;  Admiral-General  von  Usedom  Pasha, 
who  cared  for  the  coast  defense  means  along  the 
Dardanelles;  and  many  others. 

Rut  the  sodal  tastes  of  the  newspaper-man  must 


imu:fa("1": 

U»  oatiiolic.  \\v  musl  niocl,  or  sIiouKl  moot, 
«\«'rvl»o(ly.  True  lo  lliis,  1  iiiiulo  it  my  busim'ss  to 
cullivato  us  witlo  n  cirolo  of  I'lionds  niul  iu(iiiaiiit- 
iiiioos  ;us  was  j)ossil)lo  imtlor  tlio  ciroumstaiicos. 

Anions'  my  frioiuls  in  Constantinople,  tlien,  is 
'rurkcy's  foroniost  \vril<'r  and  jKH't,  feminist  and 
roforuKT,  oducator  and  i>liilantlu"oi)ist,  Halidoh 
Ktlil)  Hannyni  EfVondi. 

T  am  (looply  indohtod  to  this  brilliant  woman. 
NViion  I  oamo  lo  Turkoy  I  was  as  i<^iorant  of  its  lifo 
as  most  of  ns  AVestorners  are.  Tnrkoy  is  of  the 
East.  Wo  of  tho  Occident  say  tliat  it  is  hard  to 
understand  for  tliat  reason. 

But  the  Orient  is  not  so  baffling  as  we  have  been 
l>leasod  to  maintain.  Its  ]K'0])1o  may  be  as  well 
understood  as  any  otliors,  j)rovidod  one  sets  out 
to  understand  them. 

Ilalideh  Ilannym  thought  that  I  should  make 
llie  attempt  to  understand  tho  Turk.  This  I  did 
under  her  guidance. 

But  I  have  not  attempted  here  to  give  the  result 
of  my  observations  in  an  academic  form,  for  the 
reason  that  such  an  exposition  might  lack  interest- 
holding  qualities.  Instead,  I  have  given  my  own 
impressions  as  they  reached  me.  Nearly  all  of 
them  were  recorded  immediately  afterward.  To 
preserve  their  original  flavor  they  are  being  repro- 
duced in  this  lx)ok  without  material  changes. 

I  picture  here  tho  Turkey  at  war  and  the  Turkey 
at  |)oace,  and  tho  life  of  those  i>eople  who  are  still 
in  tlie  Ottoman  Empire,  instead  of  being  of  it,  as 
once  they  and  tho  Turks  did  hope.  The  revolution 
and  the  roliabilitation  of  the  Ottoman  Constitution 


PREFACE 

have  not  removed  the  deino-poHtical  problems  of 
the  state.  Turk,  Greek,  Armenian,  Kurd,  and 
Arab  are  as  far  apart  to-day  as  they  were  when 
the  Young  Turks,  the  "Party  of  Union  and  Prog- 
ress," announced  that  they  would  weld  into  a 
whole  the  races  under  the  Star  and  Crescent. 

Why  this  is  so,  I  have  set  forth  in  this  book. 
And  here  again  I  have  avoided  the  strictly  tech- 
nical. It  struck  me  that  so  much  more  could  be 
said  by  leaving  much  unsaid.  The  picture  tells 
often  more  than  a  description.  It  is  the  picture  I 
have  used. 

Considerable  attention  has  been  given  to  the 
status  of  the  Turkish  woman.  For  that  I  had  two 
reasons.  In  the  first  place,  the  West  is  woefully 
misinformed  and  uninformed  on  this  subject.  When 
we  think  of  Turkey  we  think  of  the  hareem,  and 
when  we  think  of  that  we  think  of  women  spending 
their  lives  as  the  plaything  of  brutal  men.  That 
is  a  fallacy.  The  other  reason  is  that  the  Turkish 
woman  has  become  a  very  progressive  being  in 
recent  years;  that  in  this  respect  she  is  by  far  the 
superior  of  the  man. 

During  the  last  three  years  much  has  been  heard 
of  the  "Berlin  to  Bagdad"  scheme.  In  what  state 
that  enterprise  is  to-day  is  noted  here  as  compre- 
hensively as  the  fluctuations  of  the  times  permit. 
In  the  spring  and  summer  of  1915  the  naval  and 
land  forces  of  the  British  and  French  governments 
did  their  best  to  nip  "Berlin  to  Bagdad"  in  the 
bud,  by  an  attack  upon  the  gate  of  Constantinople 
— the  Dardanelles  and  Gallipoli.  What  the  end 
of  this  undertaking  was  is  well  known. 


PREFACE 

ll  was  my  puul  forluiic  lo  Ik*  ;mi  oyo-wiiiiess  to 
I  III-  (>i>t)cli-iiiakiii.u  cvriils  in  I  lie  Slrail  of  l)ar<l;uioll<\s 
and  on  (ialliiM)li  I'<Miinsiil;i.  In  <U«.scril)ing  lliom  I 
l)iT,s(Mit  l»)  I  lie  |>nl>Iir  the  first  aiiflieiilic  account 
of  llu-  Dardandlcs-dallipoli  caniiKii/^ni  ;is  seen  from 
llu'  coast  l)att<'iics  and  Ircnchos  of  llie  Turks,  to 
whoso  uiilitary  forces  I  was  then  attached  as  war 
(•orr('s]>()nd<Mit.  I  wisli  io  say  in  tliis  connection 
tlial  1  liavo  not  nn<lorlakon  to  view  these  opera- 
tions crilirally  in  this  vohune.  What  I  have  to  say 
of  them  is  a  simple  antl  frank  reUition  of  facts — so 
(•onstruct(*d  that  general  luiman  interest  rather 
than  military  science,  and  the  like,  occupies  the 
attention  of  the  reader. 

s. 

New  Vohk,  J ane,  I'JIS. 


FROM    BERLIN    TO    BAGDAD 


FROM  BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 


IN  THE   NATURE   OF   A   PROLOGUE 

SINCE  the  termination,  by  the  Allies,  of  the 
Dardanelles  -  Gallipoli  campaign  it  has  been 
clear  that  the  fate  of  Turkey  would  ultimately  be 
settled  on  the  European  West  Front.  So  long  as 
Russia  was  in  the  war  there  was  a  chance,  as  some 
saw  it,  that  the  attack  on  the  strait  and  the  penin- 
sula would  be  renewed.  The  collapse  of  Russia, 
however,  made  that  possibility  a  very  remote  one. 

But  there  were  those  who,  even  before  the  evacu- 
ation of  the  peninsula,  were  of  the  opinion  that  the 
West  Front  would  in  the  end  decide  whether  or  no 
there  was  to  be  an  Ottoman  Empire  in  years  to 
come.  One  of  them  was  Field-marshal  Liman  von 
Sanders  Pasha,  commander  of  the  Ottoman  forces 
on  Gallipoli. 

Liman  Pasha,  with  that  fine  objectivity  that  was 
his,  always  held  that  the  operations  of  the  British 
and  French  against  the  Dardanelles  and  on  Gal- 
lipoli would  serve  no  purpose.     To  take  that  stand, 

Liman  Pasha  had  to  feel,  of  course,  that  he  could 

1 


FIU)M    lU-RTJX   TO   BAGDAD 

kot'p  ilio  Allit'd  trotii)s  from  advancing  to  their  ob- 
jocliws  on  the  ])tMiinsuhi  and  in  the  strait — upon 
( \)nslanlin(>i)le  nllinialcly. 

Hy  tbe  niitklk'  of  June  Linian  Pasha  was  sure  of 
this.  He  referred  to  his  abiHty  to  hold  the  Allied 
forces  in  cluuk  on  sevtMal  occasions,  and  lie  did  this 
in  a  manner  that  could  leave  no  doubt  in  the  mind 
of  the  hearer. 

'JMie  opinion  of  the  general  interested  me,  natu- 
rally. I  tested  il  several  times  in  the  manner  we 
newspaj)er-men  acquire  by  dint  of  practice  and 
(•\j)crience.  I.iman  Pasha  was  sure  of  his  ground. 
If  he  had  any  misgivings  they  were  due  to  the  fact 
that  he  never  had  enough  ammunition  for  his  ar- 
tillery. I  know  that  this  worried  him  now  and 
then. 

On  the  other  hand,  Liman  Pasha  understood  that 
the  handicaps  of  the  British  and  French  were  great. 
Time  and  time  again  it  had  been  shown  that  the 
infantry  of  the  Allies  could  not  long  hold  ground 
that  lay  below  the  topographical  crest  seen  from 
the  sea — ground  which,  in  other  words,  was  not 
visible  from  the  battle-ships  of  the  Allies,  and 
which,  for  this  reason,  could  not  be  taken  under 
direct  fire. 

When  trenches  are  close  together,  even  if  in  plain 
view  of  the  artillerymen,  there  is  always  danger 
that  one  may  bombard  one's  own  troops.  The 
slightest  error  in  sighting  may  result  in  that 
calamity.  The  chfficulties  become  insurmountable 
when  such  trenches  are  to  be  reached  by  indirect 
fire  from  the  ever-moving  deck  of  a  battle-ship. 

There  were  other  difficulties   which   the    Allies 

i 


IN  THE  NATURE  OF  A  PROLOGUE 

had  to  contend  with.  The  cHmate  was  not  suited 
for  the  men  employed.  Even  the  hardy  and 
heroic  Anzacs  found  Gallipoli  insufferable.  There 
was  not  enough  water,  of  course,  and,  last  but  not 
least,  there  was  lack  of  room  and  opportunity  to 
give  the  Allied  troops  in  reserve  a  chance  to  re- 
cuperate and  recreate. 

To  show  how  fine  a  student  Liman  Pasha  had 
been  of  the  British  troops  let  me  cite  that  he  always 
thought  the  lack  of  room  in  the  Ariburnu  terrain 
the  worst  hardship  the  Australians  and  New- 
Zealanders  underwent. 

The  participation  in  the  European  war  by  Turkey 
has  two  phases.  They  are  divided  by  the  with- 
drawal of  the  Allied  forces  from  the  peninsula. 

Without  wishing  to  appear  academic  in  a  book 
that  is  to  entertain  as  well  as  inform,  I  must,  for 
the  sake  of  clearness,  devote  a  little  space  to  these 
phases. 

The  phases  of  a  campaign  are  determined  and 
divided  by  the  outcome  of  a  series  of  operations. 
The  reaching  of  an  objective  and  the  abandonment 
of  a  plan  alike  give  periods  to  a  phase.  It  was  so 
on  Gallipoli. 

Since  I  propose  to  give  elsewhere  a  more  specific 
delineation  of  the  objectives  of  the  Allies,  I  will 
merely  state  here  that  the  purpose  of  the  naval 
operations  was  to  open  the  way  to  Constantinople. 
These  operations  failed. 

The  next  move  of  the  Allies  was  to  land  troops 
at  Kuni  Kaleh  and  on  Gallipoli.  The  object  to  be 
attained  in  that  case  was  to  break  down  the  Turkish 
coast-defense  system  along  the  Dardanelles,  so  that 

3 


FR(m    HKHLIN    TO   1U(.1)AD 

tlio  Rrilisli  ;m(l  l-'rcuch  ships  luii^lil   llioii  sleuin  to 
Constantinople. 

'\\\c  liritish  and  l"'r<Micli  j^ovcrunicnls  do  nol 
sconi  to  liavr  at  any  lime  seriously  contcmplatod 
reaching  the  Ottoman  capital  overhind.  Sueh  a 
plan  c'ouUI  nol  he  very  in\iting — lor  several  good 
reasons.  If  Allied  troo])s  had  been  landed  in  the 
(lulf  of  Siiros,  in  fighting  their  way  toward  Con- 
slantino])le,  they  would  have  been  obliged  to  take 
tlie  Tehadaldja  line  of  fortifications.  That  would 
not  Iiave  been  an  easy  task. 

liut  success  would  have  served  in  good  stead  on 
the  Balkan.  Bulgaria  in  that  case  would  have 
never  joined  the  camp  of  the  Central  Powers.  On 
the  contrary,  she  might  have  gone  with  the  En- 
tente. Tliat  contingency,  however,  could  not  be 
foreseen  in  the  early  spring  of  1915. 

As  seen  from  the  viewpoint  of  British  policy  the 
Dardanelles-Galli[)oli  campaign  was  well  conducted, 
be  it  regarded  from  a  military  or  from  a  political 
I>oint  of  view.  I  know  that  the  very  opposite  has 
been  claimed  in  Great  Britain  and  elsewhere.  I 
also  know  that  the  British  Dardanelles  Campaign 
Commission  differs  from  me,  as  its  report  plainly 
indicates. 

It  is  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  to  criticize 
after  the  event.  To  belittle  the  plan  of  a  military 
leader  after  that  plan  lias  miscarried  is  most  invit- 
ing. All  one  has  to  do  is  to  say  that  the  leader 
should  not  have  done  the  very  things  he  did  do. 

Having  made  a  close  study  of  the  Dardanelles 
and  Gallipoli  operations,  I  may  be  permitted  to  say 
that  the  critics  of  Sir  Ian  Hamilton,  and  the  men 

4 


IN  THE  NATURE  OF  A  PROLOGUE 

associated  with  him,  have  always  appeared  a  little 
too  eager  to  condemn.  Many  of  them  seem  to 
have  taken  it  for  granted  that  the  Ottoman  soldier 
is  not  what  the  Allied  troops  found  him  to  be — 
brave  as  a  lion,  as  goes  the  saying.  Others,  with 
equal  consistency,  have  overlooked  the  fact  that  in 
Liman  Pasha,  Admiral-General  von  Usedom  Pasha, 
Admiral-General  Merten,  and  other  German  of- 
ficers in  the  Ottoman  service,  the  British  and  French 
had  to  deal  with  antagonists  of  daring,  training,  and 
resourcefulness. 

This  world  would  look  very  different  to-day  had 
the  Allied  fleet  reached  Constantinople.  The  ap- 
pearance of  the  fleet  would  have  been  the  signal 
for  the  collapse  of  the  Ottoman  Empire.  Never 
hung  the  fate  of  a  state  by  so  slender  a  thread. 
So  long  as  such  men  as  Enver  Pasha  and  Talaat 
Pasha  had  the  government  in  their  hands  a  capitu- 
lation would  have  been  out  of  the  question.  That 
these  men  intended  to  continue  the  fight  is  shown 
by  the  fact  that  the  Ottoman  government,  on  that 
fateful  March  18th,  was  ready  to  go  to  Eski- 
Shehir  in  Anatolia,  the  cradle  of  Osmanli  power. 
That  government  would  have  gone  home  to  die. 

While  the  powerful  leaders  of  the  Young  Turk 
party  were  willing  to  carry  on  the  fight,  their  in- 
tentions alone  could  not  accomplish  that  resolve. 
They  did  not  have  the  means  in  Anatolia  to  con- 
tinue the  struggle.  After  a  few  weeks  they  would 
have  realized  the  futility  of  their  effort.  A  Turkey 
might  have  existed  after  that — an  Ottoman  Em- 
pire, no. 

Much  has  been  taken  for  granted  in  the  Darda- 


FROM    m^RLIN    TO    HAC.DAD 

iu'llfs-(IalliiK)li  caiiipai^Mi.  TIk"  Russians  especially 
were  liberal  in  tlial  resi)e(t.  While  the  operations 
wore  in  pro^M-t-ss  iiKuiy  of  I  ho  Russian  loading  i)ub- 
lit-alious  iu(hilii;r(l  in  tlie  hue  auli("i|)ali<)ns  of  soon 
making  Constantinople  tlie  southern  capital  of  the 
Russian  Knii)ire. 

Tlure  is  no  means  of  knowing  whether  or  not 
Russian  statesmen  were  equally  sanguine.  The 
best  that  had  ever  been  promised  Petrograd  by 
the  govrrumonls  in  Loudon  and  Paris  was  the 
"internationalization"  of  Constantinople  and  its 
waterways. 

But  to  bring  this  about  in  a  manner  befitting  the 
times  was  not  so  easy.  Critics  have  often  found  it 
hard  to  understand  why  the  Allies  did  not  syn- 
elironize  the  attack  of  the  fleet  with  that  of  the 
troops,  and  witli  the  landing  of  a  large  force  of 
Russians  on  the  Black  Sea  coast  of  Thrace — at 
Media,  for  example. 

TluTc  can  be  no  doubt  tliat  this  would  have  been 
a  bad  blow  for  the  Turks,  but  in  the  end  it  would 
have  proved  equally  disastrous  to  the  British. 

It  is  the  duty  of  British  statesmen  to  preserve  the 
influence  of  Great  Britain  in  the  Mediterranean — 
to  hold,  at  any  cost,  the  bridge-head  of  India,  the 
Suez  Canal. 

That  being  the  case,  these  men  could  not  think 
of  enthroning  on  the  Dardanelles  so  imperialistic 
a  power  as  Romanoff  Russia  was.  Great  Britain's 
two-power  standard  would  have  availed  little  in 
that  event.  The  Sea  of  Marmora  is  the  finest 
naval  base  in  the  world,  and  Eski-Hissarlik  could 
be  made  a  Gibraltar  witJi  three  times  the  strength 


IN  THE  NATURE   OF  A   PROLOGUE 

of  the  original.  If  the  Dardanelles  had  never  be- 
fore been  closed,  they  would  have  been  hermetic- 
ally sealed  then,  had  Great  Britain  and  France  per- 
mitted the  Russians  to  force  through  their  wholly 
unfounded  claims  upon  Constantinople. 

With  that  day  also  would  have  passed  into  ob- 
livion British  control  of  the  Eastern  Mediterranean 
and  the  Suez  Canal.  In  that  event  India  would 
have  been  lost,  or  at  least  hard  to  keep.  And 
what  assurance  is  there  that  Russia,  in  order  to 
fully  enjoy  the  fruits  of  her  good  fortune,  might 
not  have  decided  then  and  there  that,  so  far  as 
she  was  concerned,  the  European  war  was  over? 
Certainly  so  fine  a  morsel  as  the  Bosphorus,  Con- 
stantinople, Dardanelles  Strait,  Asia  Minor,  and 
the  Balkans  would  have  been  worth  a  little  political 
tacking,  especially  since  Russia's  plans  in  Western 
Europe  could  have  been  carried  out  at  entire 
leisure.     Who  could  or  would  have  interfered.'* 

These,  then,  were  the  contingencies  that  English 
statesmen  had  to  bear  in  mind. 

Thus  it  came  that  the  taking  of  the  Dardanelles 
and  of  Constantinople  had  to  be  made  and  kept  a 
strictly  British  piece  of  business. 

When  it  was  seen  that  the  Allied  fleet  could  not 
force  the  Dardanelles  the  same  thing  was  attempted 
via  Gallipoli.  From  the  Atchi  Baba  and  Kod- 
jatchemen  Dagh,  British  artillery  was  to  silence  the 
forts  along  the  strait,  and  then  the  ships  were  to 
steam  through  and  make  an  end  of  Ottoman  rule 
in  Stamboul. 

To  synchronize  with  the  naval  operations  in 
March  a  landing  on  the  peninsula  was  a  little  risky 


l-HOM    1U:1{MN    TO    lUC.DAI) 

for  \hc  reason  llial  Russia  would  crrhiiuly  luive 
ofr(>r«'(l  to  co-ojHM-alc  willi  a  lauding  on  the  Bluck 
Sea  short'  of  Thraro.  Tliat  was  not.  desirable,  for 
(he  ri'asons  just  <i:iven.  (^onst^mlinople  could  be 
nuieh  easier  internationalized  if  no  Russian  troops 
IwirticijKited  in  its  taking. 

AVhile  the  oi>erations  of  the  Allies  on  Galliix>li 
were  in  i)ro^ress  the  Russians  were  rather  busy 
holdini,'  tiie  Germans  and  Austro-IIungarians  back. 
The  Allies  were  consequently  spared  a  most  incon- 
venient situation. 

In  August,  while  I  was  in  Constantinople,  Turkey 
consented  to  a  border  rectification  in  favor  of 
Bul^'aria.  In  September  the  rectification  was  actu- 
ally made,  and  two  weeks  later  Bulgaria  joined 
the  Central  Powers.  That  was  the  beginning  of 
the  second  phase  of  the  campaign. 

Sir  Ian  Hamilton  on  August  Gth  had  landed  his 
second  ex|K'ditionary  army.  It  made  as  little  prog- 
ress as  the  troops  that  had  been  set  ashore  on 
Ai)ril  '25th.  In  November  the  first  German  guns 
for  the  Turks  and  large  shipments  of  ammunition 
passed  over  the  Danube  southward.  The  Serbs, 
who  in  the  past  had  kept  this  line  of  communica- 
tion between  Germany  and  Turkey  closed,  had 
been  thrown  south  by  Mackensen. 

So  much  war  material  and  so  many  reinforce- 
ments were  being  rushed  into  Turkey  by  Germany 
and  Austria-Hungary  that  the  Allies  finally  de- 
cided to  abandon  Gallipoli.  It  might  have  been 
possible  to  continue  holding  on  at  Sid-il-Bahr  and 
Ariburnu-Suvla  Bay.  But  the  sacrifices  would 
have  been  heavy  and  there  was  no  promise  that 


IN  THE  NATURE  OF  A  PROLOGUE 

progress  would  ever  be  made.  The  Allied  troops 
were  withdrawn  in  a  masterly  manner. 

Since  then  it  has  been  quiet  at  the  Dardanelles. 

The  tragic  end  of  the  Russian  Empire  has  made 
the  Dardanelles,  for  the  time  being,  an  objective 
of  secondary  importance.  The  Turkish-German 
line  of  communication  can  no  longer  be  cut  at 
that  point.  To-day  the  Black  Sea  is  open  to  the 
Germans  and  the  Turks.  The  strait  is  fortified 
as  it  never  before  was  fortified.  The  fate  of  the 
Ottoman  Empire  will  be  decided  in  Western  Europe. 


Constantinople,  Pera,  February  9,  1915. 

Made  my  entry  into  the  Ottoman  capital  at 
two  o'clock  this  morning — train  almost  seven  hours 
late.  Seems  that  after  all  it  was  the  bridge  over 
the  Maritza,  near  Adrianople,  which  caused  the 
delay.  Spring  has  set  in  suddenly  in  Thrace  and 
on  the  southern  slopes  of  the  Balkan  range.  Snow 
having  been  plentiful  throughout  the  winter,  too 
much  water  came  down  the  Maritza  Valley  in  too 
short  a  time.  The  result  was  that  the  bridge  gave 
way. 

So  at  two  this  morning  we  pulled  into  the  sta- 
tion of  the  Sirkedchi  Iskelessi,  Stamboul,  had  my 
passport  once  more  examined  by  a  sleepy  officer, 
and  then  consigned  myself  into  the  hands  and  care 
of  a  hotel  portier.  Bade  au  revoir  to  the  espaniole 
Jews  with  whom  I  had  shared  the  coupe  since 
Adrianople,  and  compared  ancient  and  modern 
Spanish,  the  latter  as  spoken  in  Mexico;  then 
tumbled,   half   asleep,   into   the   araba    (carriage); 

9 


FROM   BKHi.lN   TO   HAC.DAD 

Tiolicrd  llial  \vt'  went  across  a  j^^ood  bridge;  dimbod 
a  sti'(>p  hill  in  what  1  coiicludrd  Lo  Ik*  IVni;  and 
finally  hrou^dit  up  in  front  of  a  large,  glcomy  struct- 
ure— the  hotel. 

In  the  morning  called  at  the  American  embassy 
and  met  Ami)assador  Morgenthau,  also  his  son, 
Henry,  Jr.,  the  Armenian  drogman  (interpreter), 
and  I  he  various  dii)lomatie  secretaries.  Then  regis- 
tered at  the  Club  de  Constantinople — Lc  Petit 
Club,  as  they  call  it  in  contradistinction  to  the 
Cercic  d'Oricnf,  or  Big  Club.  The  bill  of  fare  is 
good.  Sam]>led  some  yamourtas  alia  Turca^  shish 
kebab,  and  wound  up  with  yaourt  and  tchilek. 

"You  nn'ght  just  as  well  get  used  to  hearing 
some  such  mixture  of  Turkish  and  French  from 
now  on,'*  said  I  to  myself. 

In  Pera  they  speak  a  little  of  all  languages.  I 
ha\en't  the  heart  to  make  a  list  of  them.  But  they 
all  speak  French  —  Levantine  French  —  and  just 
now  it  is  considered  ])roper  to  air  the  few  words 
of  Turkish  one  has  acquired — often  after  the  resi- 
dence here  of  a  lifetime. 

Have  learned  that  when  a  Perote  says  "slaw" 
he  does  not  mean  cabl)age  in  any  form,  but  "c'la," 
a  corruption  of  the  French  cela. 

Made  some  inquiries  relative  to  various  massacres 
alleged  to  have  occurred  in  Pera.  Everybody 
smiled.  Then  they  told  me  the  name  of  the  Amer- 
ican correspondent  who  had  disseminated  these 
rumors  from  Salonika  and  Athens  in  the  form  of 
honest- to-goodness  news  despatches.  Also  the  fact 
was  mentioned  that  since  then  the  Ottoman  govern- 
ment had  been  rather  severe  toward  all  foreign  news- 

10 


IN  THE  NATURE  OF  A  PROLOGUE 

paj)er-men.  As  to  the  massacres — there  had  been  no 
such  thing,  of  course.  I  was  glad  of  that,  but  tried 
to  figure  out  what  my  chances  would  be  working  in 
a  place  like  this,  where  some  dear  colleague  had 
"fouled  the  nest." 

After  I  heard  what  Mr.  Theron  Damon, 
correspondent  for  the  service,  and  Moschopulous, 
Damon's  reporter,  had  to  say  on  this  subject,  and 
the  consequent  attitude  in  Ottoman  government 
circles,  I  was  certain  that  I  should  not  stay  long  in 
Constantinople  and  that  my  studies  of  conditions 
in  Turkey  would  be  short  and  incomplete. 

In  the  evening  I  met  Bucknam  Pasha,  a  good 
Califomian  who  some  years  ago  brought  a  ship  to 
Turkey  from  the  Cramp  yards  in  Philadelphia, 
and  who  then  decided  that  he  would  enter  the 
Ottoman  navy  and  become  an  admiral,  or  something 
of  the  sort. 

Well,  it  rained  the  greater  part  of  the  day.  So 
I  watched  them  play  poker  and  other  games  of 
chance  at  the  Petit  Club,  had  long  conferences 
with  Damon  and  Moschopulous,  and  learned 
enough  of  intrigue  and  statesmanship  on  the 
Bosphorus  to  feel  that  they  were  both  intricate 
and  ruthless. 

Back  to  the  hotel,  where  I  had  a  row  concerning 
the  paucity  of  stove  wood  and  the  mental  short- 
comings of  the  valet  de  chambre. 

So  far  my  sphere  is  very  limited.     All  of  it  lies 

in  Pera,  in  the  rue  Kabristan.     Next  to  the  hotel 

is  the  American  embassy,  beyond  that  the  Petit 

Club,  and  across  the  street  the  editorial  offices, 

etc.,  of  the  Greek  daily  Chronos.    At  the  embassy 

11 


FROM    IMCHLIX    TO    HACDAD 

1  |)i(ko(l  up  a  rumor  to-day,  ill  I  lie  clul)  it  grt'W, 
au<l  at   tlio  hoUl  c-ouuuou  sense  killed  il. 

lu  Coiistautiuople  one  meets  two  coulinenis, 
two  worlds,  il  score  of  races,  a  dozen  languages, 
and  half  a  score  of  religions.  Here  one  picks  up, 
without  l)ending  ilie  hack,  so  to  speak,  the  frag- 
ments of  ancient,  and  the  tail-ends  of  present-day, 
ci\ili/ations,  history,  tradition,  social  laws,  eco- 
nomic systems,  antl  political  fabrics.  Constanti- 
nople lies  on  two  great  highw^ays.  Just  now  the 
water  route  is  the  most  imi>ortant.  It  runs  from 
north  to  south — from  tlie  Black  vSea,  through  the 
Bospliorus,  Sea  of  INlarmora,  and  the  Dardanelles 
into  the  INIediterranean.  The  great  turnpike  travels 
from  east  to  west.  Over  it  have  come  many  of  the 
races  whose  descendants  are  now  at  war  with  one 
another  in  Western  and  Central  Europe — over  it 
hav<'  come  all  the  impulses  that  gave  rise  to  what  we 
are  ])leased  to  call  Western  civilization. 

This  much  at  least  I  have  known  of  Constanti- 
nople for  some  time.  So  far,  I  know  little  more  of 
it.  To-day  I  made  my  first  trip  to  Stamboul — 
the  Turkish  part  of  Constantinople.  Its  streets 
are  narrow,  tolerably  well  paved,  and  clean.  The 
houses  generally  have  a  stone  parterre^  while  the 
upper  story  is  of  wood.  Few  of  them  are  three 
stories  high.  The  lower  wall,  as  a  rule,  is  pierced 
only  by  the  door  and  a  single  small  window  beside 
it.  To  the  second  floor  plenty  of  light  is  admitted. 
Generally  there  is  a  whole  row  of  latticed  windows, 
witli  a  shahnichin  or  two — bay  window — also  lat- 
ticed. Very  few  of  the  houses  give  the  impression 
that  they  could  be  divided  into  two  separate  parts 

12 


IN  THE  NATURE  OF  A   PROLOGUE 

— suites  for  the  males  and  suites  for  the  females  of 
the  family.  The  selamlik  and  hareemlik  may  still 
be  found  in  Turkey,  so  my  drogman  informs  me, 
but  only  in  palaces. 

"Monsieur,"  said  the  clever  espaniole  who  acts 
as  my  guide  and  interpreter,  "much  of  what  I 
have  read  in  books  by  European  authors  on  Con- 
stantinople and  Turkey  is  far  removed  from  the 
reality  of  things.  The  hareemlik  is  one  of  the  things 
they  have  dreamed  about  too  much.  The  Turk 
of  to-day  is  too  poor  to  have  more  than  one  wife. 
He  is  satisfied  when  he  can  support  one  woman 
and  her  children.  You  will  not  find  many  Turks 
here  who  live  in  polygamy.  I  tliink  I  could  name 
you  most  of  them  offhand." 

It  seems  that  the  proud  Osmanli  finds  it  hard  to 
get  along  in  this  modern  world.  He  does  not  take 
kindly  to  trade  and  artisanship.  He  is  far  too 
honest  to  have  much  of  a  chance  in  competition 
with  the  Greeks  and  Armenians.  But  he  must  live, 
and  since  the  Ottoman  government  is  a  thing  pe- 
culiarly Turkish,  even  under  the  Young  Turks,  he 
has  at  least  a  chance  to  become  a  government 
oflficial.  But  his  pay  is  small.  The  result  of  this  is 
that  the  Turk  in  the  government  service  is  not 
well  off  materially.  Those  sections  of  Stamboul  in 
which  he  lives  show  this.  The  paint  on  the  houses 
has  been  badly  weathered,  sun  and  rain  have 
chipped  it  off,  and  somehow  or  other  an  aspect 
of  genteel  poverty  hangs  about  the  shahnichins. 

Here  and  there  a  door  would  open  in  the  quiet 
streets.  A  woman  would  emerge,  wearing  the 
yashmak,  a  heavy  and  impenetrable  veil  of  black. 

13 


FROM   lil-:RLl\  TO   UACDAD 

\o\\  can  .st'(>  dial  [hew  is  ;i  face  uikUm-  llio  i/ashinaky 
but  you  liavo  no  meaiis  of  telling  whellier  it  is 
pretty  or  not,  young  or  not. 

Most  of  the  women  I  saw  were  rather  slender 
and  sliapely.  The  Jcrcdchch  they  wear  eouhl  not 
hide  their  i)leasing  figures.  This  garment,  cut 
like  a  loose-fitting  dress,  is  generally  of  silk,  even 
iimong  the  i>oor  classes.  Somber  colors  prevail. 
The  Jcrcdchch  is  black  in  a  majority  of  cases,  but 
I  saw  colors  as  well — dark  tans,  maroon,  ])urple, 
violet,  olive,  lighter  greens  of  a  subdued  hue,  sal- 
mon reds,  and,  what  seems  to  be  a  favorite  with 
all  young  women  at  present,  according  to  the 
drogmaiu  a  sort  of  slate  color  with  a  dash  of  \'iolet 
in  it.  The  rule  is  that  the  younger  women  may 
wear  colors — youth  leaning  toward  the  gay.  The 
lighter  the  color  of  the  outer  dress  the  younger  its 
wearer  is  likely  to  be,  though  exceptions  are  not 
rare.  Good  shoes  of  European  cut  are  generally 
worn  by  the  women. 

There  was  something  in  the  graceful  carriage  of 
the  hannyms  that  gave  one  an  inkling  of  what  the 
race  has  been  in  the  past.  I  have  no  right  to  say 
that  the  Turks  no  longer  possess  these  qualities, 
for  it  is  certain,  according  to  what  authorities  I 
have  been  able  to  consult,  that  the  Osmanli  race 
is  still  far  from  being  a  thing  of  the  past.  Too 
many  of  the  fine  qualities  of  this  conqueror  people 
show  in  their  women  to  permit  the  snap  judgment, 
given  by  so  many,  that  the  day  of  the  Turk  is  gone. 
Children  always  interest  me.  As  subjects  for 
study  of  the  life  of  a  people  they  have  no  equal. 
In  the  child  the  natural  traits  come  out  unreined. 

14 


IN  THE  NATURE  OF  A  PROLOGUE 

The  Turkish  children,  led  by  the  hand  of  some 
hannym,  were  well  behaved.  They  trotted  along- 
side of  their  mothers  with  sturdy  step,  showing  a 
keen  interest  in  everything  about  them,  as  their 
lively  chatter  and  the  pointing  of  their  little  fingers 
indicated.  Most  of  the  children  were  dressed  alia 
franca — everything  in  Turkey  having  a  European 
character  is  styled  alia  Franca:  France  is  the  one 
country  of  the  Occident  that  the  Turk  really  loves. 

In  the  yard  of  a  mosque  I  saw  several  children 
at  play — boys  and  girls.  Their  cries  and  screams 
of  delight  rent  the  air.  They  were  playing  some 
sort  of  hide-and-seek,  though  the  slim  columns  did 
not  offer  much  cover  for  even  their  little  bodies. 
The  girls  were  the  liveliest  players. 

One  of  them,  with  a  tomboy  face  that  needed 
washing,  dancing  brown  eyes,  and  light-brown  hair, 
seemed  to  be  the  leader  of  the  game.  Up  and  down 
the  yard  she  rushed,  yelling  and  gesticulating. 
Once  she  ran  over  a  little  two-year-old  shaver.  The 
youngster  found  contact  with  the  stone  pavement 
too  much  for  him  and  set  up  a  scream. 

Of  a  sudden  the  game  came  to  an  end.  The  tom- 
boy put  the  little  one  back  to  his  feet,  kissed  away 
his  tears,  overwhelmed  him  with  a  flood  of  endear- 
ing terms,  and  then  carried  him  oft'  to  a  corner  of 
the  yard.  Over  a  stick  of  candy,  the  little  Turk 
quickly  forgot  his  pains  and  troubles.  The  game 
proceeded,  and  soon  the  tomboy's  torn  brown  skirt 
could  be  seen  again  all  over  the  yard. 

"Even  the  Turk  who  has  only  one  wife  sticks 
to  the  customs  of  his  fathers,  however,"  explained 
my  drogman.     "There  may  not  be  a  hareemlik  in 

2  15 


FIIOM    HKIJLIN     TO    l5A(il)Al) 

liis  lioiiso,  hilt  \oii  lU'Ncr  SCO  liis  wil'o  iiiul  ^rovvn-up 
(liiufjflitors.  Wlion  llicre  are  male  visitors  the  female 
memlHTs  of  their  family  stay  in  their  rooms.  Out- 
side of  that  family  life  in  Turkey  is  what  it  is 
<>lsewhere,  I  suppose." 

1  (lid  not  explain  to  the  drogman  liow  much  of  a 
(liiienMiee  even  that  would  leave  between  Moslem 
and  Western  family  life. 

^^e  came  to  a  quarter  where  people  seemed  to 
he  better  off.  The  houses  did  not  differ  materially 
from  those  I  had  seen  before,  but  they  were  larger, 
and  had  been  painted  within  determinable  periods. 
Here  and  there  budding  trees  peeped  over  high 
garden  walls.  My  drogman  explained  that  in  this 
section  lived  many  of  the  higher  government  offi- 
cials. Here  also  were  to  be  found  the  town  houses 
of  the  Turks  owning  large  farms  in  Anatolia. 

I  saw  some  private  carriages.  Smart  toilettes 
were  not  inicommon.  While  many  of  the  women 
were  still  hidden  behind  the  yashmak,  I  saw  some 
who  sought  refuge  only  behind  a  thin  veil  of  black, 
or  of  some  color  matching  the  feredcheh.  My  drog- 
mau  explained  that  these  veils  were  known  as  hiir- 
undchuk — Broussa  silk.  The  burundchiik  does  not 
hide  much.  It  adds,  however,  to  the  attractiveness 
of  the  wearer,  and  that,  as  I  understand  it,  is  the 
prime  purpose  of  this  article  everj'where. 

I  saw  several  remarkably  handsome  women  and 
pretty  girls  in  the  space  of  two  streets.  Com- 
plexions ranged  from  i)eaches-and-creara  to  olive, 
and  hair  from  blond  to  black.  I  suppose  there  was 
a  similar  range  in  eyes,  but  that  I  could  not  de- 
termine. 

IG 


IN  THE  NATURE  OF  A   PROLOGUE 

Some  of  the  women  were  attended  by  eunuchs 
— last  of  their  kind.  Most  of  them  had  a  black 
woman  servant  with  them.  Not  a  few  were  plainly 
curious  as  to  who  this  new  Franc  was — I  really 
seemed  to  be  an  object  of  interest. 

The  drogmaji  explained  that  the  ladies  were  going 
to  the  shops  to  make  their  purchases.  They  bought 
the  best,  he  said.  Since  I  saw  only  the  yashmak, 
hiirundchuk,  silk  feredchehs,  lace  petticoats,  and 
high-heeled  shoes,  I  was  not  in  a  position  to  say  to 
what  extent  he  was  right.  But  even  Stamboul  has 
department  stores  that  would  fit  into  any  Western 
city. 

At  the  new  bridge  across  the  Golden  Horn  I 
later  watched  the  procession  of  Turkish  women 
going  to  and  returning  from  Pera.  That  the  Turk 
should  be  jealous  of  his  womankind  I  can  well 
understand  now.  Not  alone  is  the  Turkish  woman 
something  which  any  man  might  wish  to  possess, 
but  she  also  does  not  mind  flirting  a  little.  She  is 
attractive  and  knows  it,  and  that  being  the  case, 
craves  admiration.  She  has  my  share  of  it,  at  any 
rate. 

Constantinople  has  two  "sects"  of  women.  I 
say  sects  for  the  reason  that  religion  divides  them. 
A  woman  of  the  City  of  the  Golden  Horn  is  either 
a  Moslem  or  a  Levantine,  the  latter  class  including 
both  Christians  and  Jews. 

The  former  class  is  easily  distinguished  from  the 
other,  and  vice  versa.  Women  who  wear  the  veil 
are  Moslems;  while  those  who  do  not  are  Levantines 
and  in  a  few  cases  Europeans. 

There  are  also  several  American  ladies  here.    A 
17 


FROM    B1:R1.IN   to   BAGDAD 

few  of  lluMu  ;irc  coniu'cli'd  with  I  lie  American 
embassy  ami  Roberts  College,  a  few  others  belong  to 
the  Amerieaii  Mission  in  Slambonl,  a  score  or  so 
teaeii  at  the  American  School  for  Girls  at  Arnautkoi, 
a  baker's  dozen  have  husbands  and  fathers  in  busi- 
ness at  Constantino])le,  and  tliree  American  ladies 
are  the  wives  of  oflicers  in  the  German  naval  and 
military  services. 

But  to  continue  with  the  ladies  of  native  origin. 
The  veil,  be  it  ijashmak  or  burundchuk,  does  not 
justify  the  conclusion  that  its  wearer  is  a  Turk 
or  Osmanli.  She  may  be  a  Georgian,  Tcherkess, 
Turkoman,  Syrian,  Arab,  Persian,  Indian,  or  Egyp- 
tian. Now  and  then  she  is  a  Greek  or  Armenian  who 
chose  to  be  the  wife  of  a  Moslem.  Not  a  few  are  of 
Balkan  origin — Bulgar,  Macedonian,  and  Albanian. 

The  slim  and  vivacious  Levantine,  more  espe- 
cially la  pcrote,  as  the  non-Moslem  w^oman  of  Con- 
stantinople is  often  called,  has  antecedents  just 
as  varied.  But  the  Greeks  and  Armenians  form 
the  majority.  Next  in  order  come  the  women  of 
mixed  blood,  the  Levantines  proper.  Some  of  her 
forebears  came  from  Italy  and  southern  Russia, 
the  Balkan  States  and  Rumania;  and  not  infre- 
quently one  meets  daughters  of  the  espaniole  Jews, 
who  fled  from  the  cruel  reign  of  Ferdinand  and 
Isabella  w-hen  the  Inquisition  ravaged  Spain. 
Turkey  in  those  days  was  the  only  enlightened 
country  in  Europe.  Its  Sultan  heard  of  the  plight 
of  the  Jews  and  offered  them  for  a  home  the  site 
of  what  is  now  Salonika. 

The  men  of  Constantinople  are  rather  a  nonde- 
script lot.    The  male  Levantine  runs  to  the  highest 

18 


IN  THE  NATURE  OF  A  PROLOGUE 

of  collars  and  the  oddest  of  shoes.  His  clothing 
is  not  bad,  however.  Generally  it  is  made  to  order. 
His  manners  are  good  and  directly  related  to  the 
head-covering  he  uses.  If  the  Levantine — Greek, 
Armenian,  or  Eastern  mixture — is  an  Ottoman 
subject  he  must  wear  the  dark-red  fez  that  con- 
stitutes the  badge  of  nationality  and  citizenship 
hereabout.  In  that  case  he  salaams  in  the  manner 
of  the  Turk.  The  Levantine  who  claims  Italian, 
Greek,  Swiss,  French,  British,  or  Austrian  citizen- 
ship wears  a  hat  made  in  Paris;  this  particular  season 
it  is  of  velour  with  a  neat  little  bow  in  the  back. 
His  salutations  are  those  of  the  Western  world. 

It  is  the  head-covering,  therefore,  which  in  the 
near  East  prescribes  how  a  man  shall  greet  his 
friends  and  acquaintances.  There  is  no  rule  for 
this.  It  is  the  red  fez  that  does  it.  It  is  troublesome 
to  take  off  the  fez.  The  thing  has  no  brim,  of  course. 
In  most  cases  it  is  made  of  a  single  piece  of  felt, 
so  that  it  is  hard  to  put  on  correctly.  Then,  too, 
it  is  the  Moslem  custom  to  never  uncover  the  head. 
The  Tm-k  keeps  on  his  fez  even  before  the  Sultan. 

The  modern  Turk  of  the  better  classes  wears 
clothing  cut  by  English  tailors.  He  loves  to  be 
well  dressed.  Older  men  affect  a  sort  of  frock-coat 
with  a  collar  of  clerical  cut.  It  is  known  as  the 
stamboul.  Dignitaries  of  the  Ottoman  government 
and  the  members  of  Parliament  are  never  seen  in 
anything  else  while  in  the  city. 

The  man  of  the  people  still  wears  the  shalwarlar 
(trousers).  By  the  way,  it  is  rather  odd  that  this 
article  of  dress  should  also  in  Turkish  be  a  single 
thing  with  a  name  in  the  plural.    Shalwar  would  be 

19 


KHOM  iu:in,iN   ro  HA(.nAT) 

one  IrousiM-;  .shdlirarhir  is  Irousors.  And  Turkish 
ti*oiiS(M-s  <lrs(Mv«>  llu'ir  plural  jKilronymic.  Tlicre  is 
enough  of  llu-ui,  to  l)r  sure.  One  Turkish  ,s7m/- 
irarlar  would  uuiko  1  wo  pairs  of  ordinary  j)iinlidoons: 
four  tubes  of  clotli  joined  into  two  units. 

The  shahvarlar  are  generally  of  heavy,  bro^^^l 
stull".  They  are  said  to  last  a  lifetime.  With  tlu>m 
goes  a  colored  shirt  and  short  jacket,  wliich  hitter 
is  often  blue.  Tlie  dress  is  comph^ted  by  a  waist 
sash  of  loud  coloring,  reds  and  bhies  being  pre- 
ferred. There  is  the  inevitable  fez,  of  course. 
Most  of  tlie  men  wear  heavy  shoes  of  European 
pattern.  Now  and  then  some  itinerant  merchant, 
boatman,  or  porter  prefers  the  Eastern  opanka 
for  the  reason  that  he  can  make  that  article  of  foot- 
gear himself. 

One  wonders  what  the  population  of  Constanti- 
nople lives  on,  especially  now.  In  the  Turkish 
capital  and  its  many  suburbs  lives  a  population  of 
about  1,135,000,  of  whom  540,000  are  Turks, 
280,000  Greeks,  180,000  Armenians,  65,000  Jews, 
and  70,000  of  mixed  European  stock.  And  there  is 
not  a  single  smokestack.  It  almost  seems  as  if 
the  minarets  of  the  mosques  would  not  tolerate 
such  intrusion  upon  their  prerogative.  From  a 
landscape  point  of  view  this  is  an  advantage.  But 
from  the  angle  of  social  economy  the  thing  is  an 
anachronism. 

Constantinople  is  the  metropolis  without  fac- 
tories. It  is  a  place  of  trading  and  home  industry. 
The  men  all  buy  and  sell  something,  and  the  poorer 
classes  of  women  work  themselves  into  blindness 
making  lace  and  the  like.     That  lace  may  be  jfine 

20 


IN  THE  NATURE  OF  A  PROLOGUE 

and  all  that,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  it  costs  too 
much  in  poor  eyesight  and  round  shoulders.  It 
also  causes  a  gi-eat  deal  of  tuberculosis  of  the  lungs. 
Last,  but  not  least,  it  causes  many  of  the  young 
women  to  cast  about  for  greater  and  more  easily 
earned  incomes  in  the  cabarets  and  other  places. 

With  the  Russians  before  the  Bosphorus  and 
the  British  and  French  at  the  Dardanelles  there 
is  no  shipping  business  worth  mention.  Most 
of  the  steamers  have  been  moored  in  the  Golden 
Horn,  between  the  old  and  new  bridges.  They  are 
being  fitted  up  for  the  transport  service  of  the 
Ottoman  army  and  navy.  The  only  ships  that 
come  and  go  from  the  quays  of  Stamboul  and 
Galata  are  the  sailing  mahonies  that  attend  to 
trade  in  the  Bosphorus,  Sea  of  Marmora,  and  the 
Dardanelles  Strait. 

I  understand  that  even  in  other  days  Con- 
stantinople was  not  a  busy  port  and  mart,  despite 
the  great  tonnage  cleared  in  and  out  annually.  Most 
of  the  ships  that  passed  Seraii  Point  did  not  even 
come  to  anchor.  But  they  took  on  and  discharged 
cargoes  at  other  points  of  the  Turkish  coast,  and 
Constantinople  exacted  its  tribute.  The  merchan- 
dise exported  belonged  usually  to  some  merchant 
prince  in  the  capital,  and  the  profit  it  brought  was 
spent  in  the  city  in  no  niggardly  fashion.  Those 
who  sold  at  Smyrna,  Alexandrette,  and  a  score  of 
other  ports  bought  eagerly  at  the  shops  of  Stamboul 
and  Pera.  They  kept  many  servants.  That  kept 
the  money  in  circulation.  There  was  also  an  active 
tourist  trade,  and,  last  but  not  least,  the  Ottoman 
government    has    many    officials    and    employees. 

21 


FROM    m-nnJN   TO   HACDAD 

MosI  of  tlu'sc  nrr  poorly  paid,  to  hv  sure,  bul  iiiuiiy 
of  tluMu  siral  tMioiij<h,  especially  true  of  the  days  of 
Alnliil  Ilainid,  to  make  their  ein]>loynieiit  or  office 
worth  wiiile.     'I'liat,  too,  keeps  the  livrc  goin^, 

But  Constantino])le  had  consitlerahle  shore  trade. 
The  merchants  of  the  hazaar  did  a  fine  business  in 
Persian,  Hokhara,  Anatolian,  and  Syrian  rugs  and 
car|>els.  From  the  interior  of  Asia  Minor  they 
brought  textiles,  wool,  and  lace,  and  from  south  of 
the  Sea  of  Marmora  they  obtained  silks  in  huge 
quantities.  There  was  also  a  good  trade  in  beaten 
coi)})(M'  and  l)rass,  leather  goods,  clothing,  and  shoes. 

But  the  vohune  of  trade  was  never  and  is  not 
now  what  one  would  expect  of  so  large  a  city.  At 
best  it  is  remarkable  only  for  the  fact  that  it  keeps 
so  many  occupied.  In  Stamboul  there  are  whole 
streets  in  which  copper-beaters  have  their  shops 
and  make  their  infernal  racket.  In  other  streets 
the  leather-workers  hold  forth.  I  saw  several 
shops  to-day  in  which  men  were  fashioning  horse- 
shoes by  hand.  In  others  they  were  making  bridle- 
bits  and  stirrups  for  the  Ottoman  army.  A  gun- 
smith was  busy  turning  out  revolvers  for  the  officers 
in  the  field.  Near  the  Great  Bazaar  himdreds 
of  tailors,  three  and  four  to  a  shop,  were  making 
uniforms;  and  near  by,  in  a  street  inhabited  largely 
by  shoemakers,  munition  boots  were  being  made 
for  the  army  in  the  Caucasus. 

The  war  has  stimulated  trade  in  Constantinople 
quite  a  bit,  I  am  told.  That  is  natural  enough. 
The  war  has  done  that  in  other  countries.  I  am 
wondering,  though,   who  in  this  case  is  mulcting 

the   government   and   the   people.     There  are   no 

22 


IN  THE  NATURE   OF  A   PROLOGUE 

great  captains  of  industry  to  do  it.  These  small 
producers  have  neither  the  ability  nor  the  courage 
to  fleece  the  army  commissaries.  The  army  com- 
missaries themselves  are  said  to  be  clean-handed. 
But  I  feel  instinctively  that  somebody  is  squander- 
ing the  taxes  of  the  people.  May  be  that  sooner 
or  later  I  will  find  out  who  is  doing  it.  I  would  have 
to  totally  revise  my  opinion  of  the  scheme  eternal 
if  it  should  turn  out  that  Turkey  was  the  one  coun- 
try in  which  the  misfortune  of  the  many  was  not 
being  exploited  profitably  by  the  few. 

February  12th  {Friday). 

To-day  was  the  Sabbath  of  the  Moslems.  All 
the  Stamboul  shops  were  closed. 

February  13th  (Saturday). 

To-day  was  the  Sabbath  of  the  Jews.  Many  of 
Pera's  and  Galata's  shops  were  closed. 

February  Hth  (Sutiday). 

To-day  was  the  Sabbath  of  the  Europeans, 
Greeks,  and  Armenians  of  Pera  and  Galata.  Only 
a  few  shops  were  closed. 

February  15th. 

My  studies  of  conditions  in  Turkey  are  making 
fairly  good  headway.  I  have  written  much  copy 
for  the  mail,  and  in  a  few  days  hope  to  get  at  least 
one  interview. 

As  seen  from  my  present  viewpoint,  the  entry 
of  Turkey  into  the  European  war  came  about  in 

23 


FROM    HKRLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

I  Ills  nianiuM-:  'Vhc  OKoiikui  <;ovornmeiit  feared — 
Mild  thr  (ionnan  onihassy  sueceeded  in  convincing  it 
of  I  Ills  tlial  'I'mkcy  would  liave  to  engage  in  the 
war  on  tlie  side  of  the  Central  StMes  if  she  were  not 
to  l>o  disiuenil)(M»Ml.  The  Phitente  governments,  so 
runs  [hv  arguun-nt,  would  sooner  or  later  have  forced 
I  lie  Darilanclles  for  the  purpose  of  milking  sure  of 
Turkey.  The  waterway  in  question  meant  too 
nnieh  in  I  lie  Entente  scheme  of  tilings  to  have  it 
remain  in  the  sole  control  of  the  Turks  during  the 
duration  of  the  war.  The  Turks  feared  that  they 
would  never  again  oust  the  Western  powers  from 
Constant  ino]>le,  once  they  had  been  installed. 
Though  not  enthusiastic  adherents  of  tlie  Central 
Powers,  the  Turks  finally  concluded  that  joining 
(lermany  and  Austria-Hungary  would  be  choosing 
the  lesser  of  two  evils. 

I  have  found  no  real  love  for  the  Germans  and 
Austrians  in  Constantinople.  The  Turks  lean  tow- 
ai-d  the  French.  TJie  Greeks  are  ardent  PVanco- 
philes.  The  Ai'menians  incline  toward  anytliing 
that  is  anti-Turk.  But  the  Turk  is  an  ardent 
patriot,  it  seems,  a  man  who  is  ready  to  maki^ 
many  sacrifices  for  the  continuation  of  his  rule 
over  the  Ottomans,  Greek  and  Armenian,  not  to 
mention  the  SjTians,  Arabs,  and  what  not.  The 
Gei-man  is  virtually  disliked,  and  while  his  military 
qualities  are  held  in  high  esteem,  it  is  not  for  this 
reason  that  the  Turk  became  his  ally.  It  was  en- 
tirely fear  of  the  Entente,  more  especially  fear  of 
the  Russians,  whose  openly  avowed  ambition  to 
take  and  hold  Constimtinoi)le  has  been  the  night- 
mare of  the  Osmanli  for  centuries. 

24 


IN  THE  NATURE  OF  A  PROLOGUE 

February  17  th. 

Had  lunch  to-day  at  the  American  embassy. 
Mrs.  Morgenthaii  is  a  charming  hostess.  The 
company  was  good.  It  inchided  among  others 
HaHdeh  Edib  Hannym  Effendi,  foremost  feminist 
of  Tm-key,  poetess,  noveHst,  teacher,  reformer,  and 
manager  of  a  private  school  for  girls  maintained 
largely  at  her  own  expense.  Present  were  also  a 
deputy  to  the  Ottoman  Parliament  from  Bagdad, 
and  Bustany  Effendi,  a  former  minister  of  something 
or  other  in  Stamboul. 

Embassy  luncheons  are  not  occasions  for  polit- 
ical discussions.  So  we  talked  of  Turkish  civiliza- 
tion, a  subject  which  seemed  nearest  to  the  heart 
of  Halideh  Hannym.  I  learned,  for  instance,  that 
the  veil  is  not  an  Osmanli,  but  a  general  Oriental 
institution,  more  recently  identified  with  the  Per- 
sians and  Arabs,  though  not  unknown  to  the  people 
of  Byzantium. 

"I  suppose,"  said  Halideh  Hannym,  "that  the 
veil  had  its  origin  in  social  necessity.  In'^the  coun- 
tries east  of  here,  the  countries  which  my  ancestors 
traversed  on  their  road  to  Europe,  there  was  a 
time  when  a  man  who  possessed  a  pretty  wife  had 
to  hide  her  charms  under  the  veil,  so  that  he  might 
not  lose  her  to  somebody  stronger  than  he.  Also 
in  these  countries  a  young  girl  found  the  veil  her 
only  protection.  If  she  wanted  to  have  for  a  mate 
a  man  at  least  reasonably  acceptable,  she  could 
do  nothing  else  but  hide  her  allurements  until  the 
moment  had  come  to  employ  them." 

Halideh  Hannym  is  a  divorced  woman,  so  I  feel 
that  she  knows  what  she  is  talking  about.    She  is 

25 


FROM    UKRLIN    TO    HACDAl) 

ji  woman  of  u'lH-al  In^auly.  moroovor — comploxion 
the  fainvsf  our  could  iinugino,  eyes  of  a  droaniy, 
soft  l)iH)\\n,  and  hair  tliat  reminds  one  of  bronze 
eoohn^'  from  red-lieal.  Iler  face  is  noble  in  its 
re<;ularity  and  of  a  distinctly  Osmanli  t^l^e,  without 
txK)  strong  a  contour,  however.  The  nose  is  Turk- 
ish, yet  not  too  Turkish,  and  in  tlie  mouth  and  chin 
passion  and  firmness  have  been  blended  into  sub- 
hme  balance. 

Her  soft  voice — I  heard  her  sf)eaking  in  Turkish, 
French,  F]nglish,  and  (lerman,  during  and  after 
the  luncheon — is  wonderful  in  its  range.  You  hear 
it  and  you  watch  tlie  hannyiiis  eyes,  feeling,  mean- 
while, that  you  are  constiintly  being  checked  up,  as 
it  were.  Ilalideh  Fkiib  Hannym  wants  you  to 
understand.  Whether  you  do  understand  or  not 
her  marvelous  eyes  quickly  discern;  the  descendo 
of  lier  voice  demands  your  better  attention — she 
repeats  what  she  has  said,  you  grasp  the  meaning 
of  her  words,  and  the  conversation  continues. 

"I  cannot  say  that  I  am  an  admirer  of  the  Ger- 
mans," she  remarked  in  the  salon,  where  we  had 
coffee.  "They  are  a  little  too  heavy.  They  lack 
grace.  They  have  peculiar  notions  as  to  what  con- 
stitutes tact.  But  I  must  be  fair  to  them.  The 
fault  may  be  mine.  Though  I  have  read  the  Ger- 
man classics,  familiarized  myself  with  German 
philosophy,  studied  their  history  and  socio-economic 
tendencies,  and  found  much  good  in  them,  I  am 
never  in  harmony  with  their  methods  of  thought. 
Some  of  their  ideals  are  nightmares  to  me. 

"I  am  more  at  home  with  the  FVench  and  their 
ways.     Nuti  sovitncs  en  accord.     There  is  nothing 

26 


IN  THE  NATURE  OF  A  PROLOGUE 

more  delightful  than  French  literature,  nothing 
more  acceptable  than  French  philosophy,  and  no- 
body more  charming  than  French  people  of  culture. 

"When  it  comes  to  efficiency,  to  capacity,  to 
thoroughness,  to  all  that  makes  for  material  prog- 
ress, you  cannot  compete  with  the  Germans,  how- 
ever. But  I — well,  I  am  not  a  materialist.  In 
recent  years  I  have  come  to  realize  that  materialism 
is  an  essential  in  the  social  broth;  it  may  even  be 
the  very  beef  needed  to  make  this  broth.  I  am 
one  of  those  who  think  they  are  supplying  the 
salt — merely  a  condiment.'* 

I  suggested  that  salt  was  very  essential.  Halideh 
Edib  Hannym  saw  that  I  was  aware  of  the  value 
she  had  placed  upon  her  own  efforts.    She  smiled. 

"I  am  doing  what  little  there  lies  in  my  power,'* 
she  explained,  modestly.  "I  am  not  a  materialist. 
We  Ottomans  have  departed  too  far  from  idealism, 
and  the  effects  of  this  change  have  not  been  such  as 
to  cause  me  to  feel  happy  over  it.  We  still  hold  the 
position  of  conquerors,  without  having  the  qualities 
of  the  conqueror.  We  still  hold,  but  we  do  not 
hold  to  improve.  We  still  rule,  but  we  do  not 
govern.  We  still  assert  our  dominion,  but  we  make 
too  many  compromises.  We  would  give  all  Otto- 
man subjects,  regardless  of  race  or  creed,  their 
full  share  in  the  running  of  this  country,  but  we 
lack  the  courage  to  really  do  so.  We  would  have 
our  fellow-citizens  love  us,  but  we  show  neither 
respect  for  them  nor  confidence  in  them. 

"We  are,  in  short,  a  people  with  no  ideals,  or 
with  ideals  that  have  fallen  upon  evil  days.  Our 
ideals  have  been  tainted  with  materialism's  worst 

27 


FROM    BERLIN   TO    BACDAD 

phases,  ^^('  look  upon  t'XjH'dii'iicy  and  niake- 
sliifts  as  t.ho  tilings  tluit  will  lu'lp  us  across  ilie 
trials  of  ilic  hour,  without  realizing  lliat  in  the  end 
this  will  loot  up  into  a  bill  we  cannot  piiy. 

"Our  government  has  been  nerveless  for  almost 
centuries.  The  Osmanli  wlio  almost  overran  Eu- 
rope became  incomjx'tent  temporizers,  who,  to 
cajole  fate  into  being  kind  to  them,  surrendered 
their  so^'ereignty  jjiecemeal  in  capitulations;  who, 
to  keep  their  government  officials  in  bread  and 
olives  and  pay  the  cost  of  a  prodigal  court,  mort- 
gaged tlieir  revenues  until  nearly  all  of  them  are 
in  the  control  of  foreign  bank  agents." 

It  struck  me  that  what  Halideh  Hannym  found 
lacking  in  her  race,  in  the  men  of  her  race,  was  what 
is  usually  termed  forcefulness.  I  was  very  much 
interested  in  the  subject  she  had  discussed,  but 
it  was  time  to  leave. 

Febniary  20th. 

I  have  with  me  now  a  peculiar  person  —  one 
Ra;yniiond  E.  Swing,  Berlin  correspondent  of  the 
Chicago  Daily  News,  who,  like  myself,  has  come 
to  the  Balkans  and  Turkey  to  study  conditions 
here.  To-night  over  a  glass  of  something  or  other 
I  had  occasion  to  understand  Swing.  Most  delight- 
ful chap — thinker,  dreamer,  radical,  rationalist, 
opinionated,  self -asserting,  gentle  and  "cussed"  at 
the  same  time;  he  dotes  on  philosophy,  ancient 
and  modern,  and  regrets  missing  the  opera  season 
at  Berlin. 


n 

WHAT   SOME   TURKS   THOUGHT   OF   THE   SITUATION 

WHEN  one  has  been  in  a  country  only  nine 
days  it  is  best  to  let  the  people  of  that 
country  speak  for  it.  That  was  my  view  in  this 
instance. 

I  set  about  to  get  a  number  of  interviews  with 
prominent  statesmen  of  Turkey.  They  were  on  the 
defensive,  I  found.  They  had  to  be  that.  The 
Old  Turks  were  still  violently  opposed  to  the  war, 
and  there  was  division  even  among  the  Young 
Turks.  In  fact,  the  men  who  had  led  Turkey  into 
the  war  were  a  very  small  minority.  That  they 
had  succeeded  in  their  plan  was  due  to  their  great 
power.  Though  Turkey  had  now  again  a  Constitu- 
tion and  a  Parliament  it  was  still  possible  to  pro- 
ceed w^th  arbitrariness,  and  Enver  Pasha,  Talaat 
Bey,  and  Saiid  Halim  Pasha,  the  Grand  Vizier, 
had  not  overlooked  their  chances. 

On  February  18th  I  interviewed  Talaat  Bey, 
Ottoman  Minister  of  the  Interior;  a  card  from  the 
American  ambassador  introduced  me.  The  meeting 
progressed  satisfactorily  after  Talaat  Bey  had  dis- 
covered that  I  was  a  lodge  brother  of  his. 

Talaat  Bey  is  a  European  Turk  of  Albanian 

29 


FROM    1U:RMN     to    BA(il)Al) 

uri^^in.  llo  is  ;i  hir^'i-  nian.  [^pon  broad  slioiildcrs 
jiiul  ii  Uiick  nock  sits  ii  lu^icl  ol'  bold  iind  strong 
lines. 

In  his  yonth  TaUmt  was  a  ]X)or  boy.  At  the 
time  of  the  Tnrkish  revolnlion,  in  1008,  he  was  a 
telegraph-operator  at  Salonika.  Something  or  other 
he  did  in  those  tlays  cansed  him  to  get  np  high  in 
the  ranks  of  the  Turkish  "Party  of  Union  and 
Progress."  He  has  never  n^linqnished  the  hold  tliis 
gave  him  upon  afTairs  in  Const^mtinople. 

I  asked  questions  on  Turkey's  internal  and  ex- 
ternal relations  and  ])olitics.  It  is  generally  im- 
]K)ssible  to  discuss  foreign  affairs  with  a  minister 
of  interior  affairs,  though  that  was  the  j)nrposc  of 
my  \'isit.  So  we  sUirted  by  discussing  the  interior 
and  ended,  as  I  had  designed,  by  reviewing  the 
foreign  relations  of  Turkey. 

Talaat  was  certain  that  tlie  entry  of  Turkey 
in  tlie  European  war,  on  the  side  of  the  Central 
Powers,  had  been  a  national  necessity. 

"We  Turks  have  felt  the  hand  of  European 
statesmen  too  often  to  give  a  fig  for  their  prom- 
ises," Talaat  Bey  said.  "What  they  promise  and 
what  they  do  are  very  different  things.  The  fact 
is  that  Turkey  had  to  find,  was  forced  to  find,  her 
place  in  the  present  constellation.  That  place  for 
the  time  being  is  nothing  more  than  an  endeavor 
to  weather  this  storm. 

"The  Turkish  government  happens  to  know 
what  has  t>een  discussed  in  I^ndon,  Paris,  and 
Petrograd  since  the  outbreak  of  the  war  in  August. 
We  knew  that  we  were  to  be  shorn  once  more  and 
that  the  Entente  would  not  temper  the  wind  that 

30 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

would  blow  for  us.  So  we  decided  to  make  war 
on  the  side  of  the  Central  Powers. 

"That  we  shall  emerge  from  this  war  victorious  is 
not  at  all  certain  as  yet.  Nous  verrons!  Meanwhile 
we  are  doing  what  is  obviously  our  duty,  even  if  it 
be  our  last.  We  are  fighting  the  Entente  as  best 
we  can.  We  will  fight  the  Entente  so  long  as  we  can. 
If  the  issue  goes  against  us  we  will  have  gone  under 
as  befits  the  Osmanli. 

"Our  nation  has  been  bled  white  by  the  con- 
tinuous wars  it  has  engaged  in.  If  this  thing  keeps 
up  the  day  will  come  when  there  will  be  an  Otto- 
man Empire  without  a  real  Turk  in  it — a  day  for 
which  our  friends  are  waiting,  a  day  for  which 
some  of  our  fellow-citizens  pray., 

"Well,  we  shall  see!  The  Turk  is  yet  here,  and 
so  long  as  he  is  here  he  must  be  reckoned  with. 
We  are  going  to  fight  to  a  standstill,  and  it  may 
be  our  own  standstill — our  end.  But  they  will  not 
be  able  to  say  that  the  Turk  laid  down.  Let  them 
beware!" 

That  "Let  them  beware!"  was  uttered  through 
set  teeth.  I  left  Talaat  Bey  with  the  impression 
that  I  would  just  as  soon  face  an  Andalusian  arena 
bull  unarmed  as  run  counter  to  the  man  in  charge 
of  Turkey's  interior.  There  was  something  so  de- 
termined, almost  savage,  in  the  man's  face  that 
my  picture  of  military  Turkey  underwent  a  de- 
cided change  as  I  pondered  over  things  in  the  araba. 

Talaat  Bey,  now  Pasha  and  Ottoman  Minister 

of  the  Interior,  had  made  a  deep  impression  upon 

me.    I  felt  that  this  man,  should  the  occasion  arise, 

could  be  hard  as  steel  despite  his  genial  exterior. 
3  31 


FROM    HKHUN   TO   HAGDAD 

To  ,i,Miii  Ill's  (Mid  lu-  would  HoL  siu'iiik  from  any 
imasiirc,  ;iii«l  since  his  ends  were  wrapped  up  in 
I  lie  wi'llari'  of  a  state,  those  measures  were  hkely 
to  be  i'ar-reaehing. 

The  former  tek'fj:rai)h-operator  struck  me  as  a 
romantic  figure  in  the  world's  story.  The  man  Iiad 
once  l)een  i>oor  and  of  no  consequence.  Now  he 
held  in  his  liands  the  destiny  of  a  state  with  twenty- 
two  million  inhahiUmts.  He  was  not  only  Min- 
ister of  the  Interior,  but  actually  the  ruler  of  tlie 
land.  The  Sultiin  and  the  Grand  Vizier  were  said 
to  be  his  tools,  and  Enver  Pasha  was  at  best  his 
collaborator. 

Tlu-ee  days  Liter  I  again  met  Halideh  Hannym 
and  wTote  a  story  about  her.  It  was  a  pleasant 
tiisk. 

Tlie  lady  seemed  most  "Occidental,"  despite  her 
Turkisli  habiliment.  We  had  tea  together.  To 
get  her  views  on  socio-political  considerations  in 
Turkey,  I  started  to  discuss  the  ballot. 

"I  do  not  consider  politics  within  my  province," 
she  said,  in  reply  to  something  I  had  said.  "But 
I  am  interested  in  the  subject.  I  am  not  so  sure 
that  limiting  the  right  to  vote  to  tliose  considered 
qualified  to  vote  would  be  an  altogether  unmixed 
blessing,  as  you  seem  to  think.  It  would  lead  to 
two  socio-political  classes.  I  am  not  convinced  that 
the  voting  class  would  look  out  for  the  interest  of 
the  non-voting  class.  Your  scheme  might  result 
in  better  government,  more  intelligent  govern- 
ment, more  efficient  government,  if  you  please,  but 
it  would  not  be  a  representative  government.  The 
class  not  qualified  to  vote,  by  reason  of  not  having 

32 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

the  necessary  education,  might  be  lost  sight  of 
altogether,  because  the  voting  class  might  then  be 
without  incentive  to  educate  the  ignorant  class. 
The  situation  might  lead  to  helotism.  I  can  under- 
stand why  universal  suffrage  does  not  always  re- 
sult in  the  best  government.  It  gives  too  much  lee- 
way to  the  demagogue,  and  passion  rather  than 
reason  often  determines  the  result  of  the  ballot. 
If  there  were  a  guarantee  that  the  educated  and 
voting  class  would  see  to  it  that  those  less  fortu- 
nately situated  should  in  the  end  understand  the 
principles  and  duties  of  government,  then  such  a 
plan  would  be  highly  beneficial.  But  no  such  guar- 
antee can  be  given,  and,  I  am  sure,  if  given  it 
would  not  be  always  adhered  to  by  those  in  power." 

Halideh  Hannym  confessed  herself  in  favor  of 
universal  suffrage,  women  included.  I  had  made 
the  remark  that  I  had  no  prejudice  against  women 
voting,  provided  measures  were  employed  to  pre- 
vent the  further  augmentation  of  the  class  of  voters 
who  cast  their  ballots  without  knowing  the  why 
and  wherefore. 

We  returned  to  Turkey.  Halideh  Hannym  said 
that  education  for  all  was  urgently  needed.  But 
education  would  have  to  move  on  a  different  plane. 
It  would  have  to  be  more  practical,  get  away 
from  never-ending  recitals  from  the  Qua'raan,  and 
instruct  the  young  in  the  duties  of  citizenship. 
That  education  was  to  include  women,  of  course. 

"It  has  been  said  that  the  woman  is  the  hope  of 
Turkey  to-day,"  said  Halideh  Hannym.  "Maybe 
that  is  true.  If  it  is  true,  then  we  have  another 
reason  why  the  Turkish  woman  must  have  a  better 

33 


FROiM   BERTJN  TO  BACDAD 

rdiicalioii  limn  she  lias  had  In  llic  i)asl,  lliougli,  on 
llio  wlioK>,  luT  oducatioii  luis  not  been  so  far  behind 
that  of  the  men  as  is  pmerally  accepted.  The 
fact  is  tlial  the  Turkish  woman  of  tlie  mi<l<Ue  and 
IxHter  classes  has  had  more  time  to  read  than  the 
men.  Her  seclusion  brings  her  more  in  contact 
w-itli  tlie  books  and  reviews.  It  also  causes  her  to 
tJiink  more,  and,  maybe,  think  deeper,  than  do 
the  men." 

She  began  to  examine  the  position  of  the  Turkish 
woman  historically. 

"The  present  feminist  movement  in  Turkey  is 
nothing  new,  after  all,"  she  began,  settling  back 
on  the  divan.  "It  is  merely  a  renaissance,  a  re- 
development of  a  condition  which  once  existed. 
There  was  a  time  wlien  the  Turkish  woman  had 
all  the  rights  of  her  brother  and  husband.  The 
mother  of  Ghengis  Khan  was  the  ruler  of  the  Turks 
for  many  years  after  her  husband  died,  leaving 
the  country  to  a  successor  much  too  young  to 
govern  it. 

"In  those  days  the  Turkish  woman  was  on  a  parity 
w^th  the  man,  in  whose  eyes  she  was  really  tlie  life 
companion.  It  is  no  mere  coincidence  that  the 
Turkish  word  for  woman  is  in  reality  part  of  the 
word  identifying  the  Supreme  Deity. 

"For  many  centuries  this  continued.  Then  the 
Turks,  driven  westward  either  by  force  of  circum- 
stances or  following  their  own  impulse,  invaded 
Persia.  Here  they  came  in  touch  with  Moham- 
medanism, which  in  Persia  had  already  lowered 
the  status  of  the  woman  to  a  low  level.  Following 
the  force  of  bad  example,  our  men  divested  them- 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

selves  of  the  reverence  in  which  they  had  held 
their  mothers,  sisters,  and  wives  and  women  gen- 
erally. 

"The  Mohammedanism  of  the  Arabs,  which  the 
Turks  were  to  encounter  next,  made  things  worse, 
so  that,  within  a  short  time,  the  Turkish  women 
became  exactly  what  the  women  of  these  races 
were — things  of  pleasure.  Meanwhile  the  Turks 
had  subjugated  these  peoples  and  taken  their 
women  to  themselves,  with  the  result,  as  always 
happens  in  the  case  of  an  over-supply,  that  woman 
in  general  was  no  longer  esteemed.  The  Turkish 
women  paid  a  high  price  for  the  victories  of  their 
men. 

"This  remained  the  status  of  the  Turkish  woman 
for  about  five  centuries.  Since  man  is  the  son  of 
woman,  the  race  deteriorated  under  the  baneful 
influence  of  polygamy  and  all  that  goes  with  it. 

"Thirty-four  years  ago  a  change  for  the  better 
set  in.  Our  poets  began  to  once  more  sing  of  the 
Turkish  woman,  who  hitherto  had  been  actually 
thought  too  base  to  be  mentioned  in  poetry.  The 
renaissance  of  Turkish  literature  now  in  progress 
has  done  much  to  put  the  Turkish  woman  some- 
where near  the  high  place  which  was  once  hers. 

"There  is  another  cause.  The  Turkish  public  has 
been  reading  French  novels  and  other  books  for 
many  years  now.  Often  it  has  been  the  sole 
pleasure  the  Turkish  girl  and  woman  had  in  life. 
Whether  she  asserted  herself  as  the  result  of  reading 
these  books,  learning  from  them  what  the  position 
of  woman  was  in  the  Occident,  or  whether  the  sense 
of  justice  of  the  man  was  roused,  I  am  not  prepared 

35 


FROM  iu:rlin  to  ragdad 

to  s;iy.  At  any  rate,  ihv  cinaiicipution  of  the  Turk- 
ish woman  is  slowly  but  surely  going  on. 

"I^nt  I  {vv\  juslifi(ul  in  saying  thai  iho  instincts 
of  the  race  luive  nuicii  to  do  with  the  roiichnission 
to  luT  t'onnor  stiitus  of  the  Turkisli  woman.  In 
our  race  still  lives  the  memory,  dormant  but  capa- 
ble of  being  ronsed,  of  the  glory  of  the  days  when 
the  Turkisli  woman  was  the  free  and  equal  mate 
and  eom])anion  of  her  husband." 

Ilalideh  llannym's  eyes  sparkled  as  she  thought 
of  those  days.  The  Turks  had  no  capitulations 
and  foreign  managers  of  the  public  debt  then. 

"So  our  poets  began  to  speak  of  women  again — 
Turkish  women — strange  creatures  at  first,  as  they 
had  to  be — women  of  heroic,  fantastic,  and  often 
bizarre  qualities.  The  Turkish  public,  even  the 
Turkish  women,  could  not  have  taken  kindly  to  a 
realistic  portrayal  of  what  the  Turkish  woman  had 
b<'en  these  many  centuries." 

But  here  our  conversation  ended,  for  Halideh 
Hann\Tn  had  to  catch  the  boat  for  Principo,  where 
her  little  son  lived  on  liis  grandfather's  estate. 

The  interview-mill  was  running  fine  now.  On 
the  following  afternoon  I  had  a  meeting  with 
the  Rev.  Dr.  Haim  Nahoum,  grand  rabbi  of 
Palestine. 

His  residence  is  a  huml^le  affair — a  three-story 
building  against  the  hillside  in  Pera.  A  few  trees 
in  front  of  the  rabbinicid  "palace"  distinguish  it 
from  all  the  other  ''tenements"  in  the  narrow 
street. 

The  interview  was  short  and  cautious.  The  rabbi 
felt  that  he  had  to  be  very  careful,  despite  the  sup- 

30 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

port  which  his  friend,  the  American  ambassador, 
might  give  him.  We  talked  about  much  in  general, 
and  about  little  in  particular,  as  is  the  case  under 
such  circumstances.  The  Jews  under  Turkish 
rule  were  not  badly  treated,  the  rabbi  said.  They 
had,  in  fact,  been  very  liberally  treated,  on  the 
whole,  though  this  liberality  was  due  more  to  the 
good  nature  of  certain  Ottoman  government  offi- 
cials than  to  a  policy  of  the  government  itself. 
There  was  nothing  to  complain  of.  The  Jew  in 
Palestine  and  Turkey  was  prosperous  in  the  main, 
said  the  grand  rabbi. 

Doctor  Nahoum  is  a  tactful  man.  There  is  no 
doubt  that  he  had  more  on  his  mind.  But  he  was 
talking  to  a  man  who  had  come  to  Turkey  to  write. 
I  might  say  things  which,  though  true,  would  get 
his  people  into  trouble.  It  was  unlikely  that  he 
personally  would  suffer  from  anything  he  said.  He 
was  too  big  a  figure  for  that.  But  in  the  East 
they  have  a  habit  of  exacting  vicarious  sacrifices. 
What  the  grand  rabbi  said  was  likely  to  be  slated 
against  his  race,  and  while  the  Jews  in  the  Ottoman 
Empire  were  not  being  persecuted  just  then,  it 
was  still  possible  that  criticism  of  the  Ottoman 
government  by  Doctor  Nahoum  might  have  detri- 
mental results  for  his  race. 

February  23d. 

The  city  is  full  of  all  sorts  of  rumors.  Some  of 
them  carry  their  absurdity  on  their  face.  Others 
seem  to  harmonize  with  the  burden  of  the  meager 
official  communiques  that  are  issued  daily  for  the 
reassurance  of  the  populace. 

37 


FROM    ni:HIJ\   TO   BACOAl) 

Tliat  |><)|)uIaot*  is  a  iKM-ulIar  one,  U)  ho  sure. 
I  am  ^'au^Miiij;  il  in  the  catrs  ol'  IVra,  (Jaliitu,  Tiixiin, 
aiul  Staniboul.  When  news  from  the  front  is  had 
for  the  Turks  it  seems  f^ood  to  the  Armenians. 
And  vice  rcr.sa.  Tlie  (J reeks  tlon't  seem  to  ciire  who 
wins.  To  that  extent  they  are  true  neutrals,  as 
true  as  the  floek  of  <,M"psies  I  interviewed  near  the 
Portji  Aurelia  in  Stanihoul  to-day. 

]\Iy  information  is  that  tlie  Turkish  coast  bat- 
teries at  Kinn  Kah'h,  Orclianieh,  and  Sid-il-Balu" 
are  no  more.  I  k'arned  to-day  that  the  AlHed 
ship  guns  outranged  them  hopelessly.  If  that 
keeps  up  the  British  and  French  will  be  here  before 
long. 

Meanwhile  the  population,  regardless  of  race, 
lives  under  the  severe  strain  of  subdued  excitement. 
The  city  may  be  shelled,  they  believe.  There  may 
be  massacres  in  the  eleventh  hour.     Quien  sabe? 

During  the  last  few  days  there  has  been  a  de- 
cided falling-off  of  street  traffic.  The  stores  are 
not  well  attended.  The  Stamboul  bazaar  was 
nearly  empty  this  afternoon.  In  the  cafes  men  sit 
at  the  little  round  tiibles  and  talk  in  wliispers.  One 
group  seems  to  be  afraid  of  the  other. 

I  suppose  it  would  not  go  well  with  the  gloating 
Armenian,  or  the  Greek,  who  should  happen  to 
make  a  light  remark  concerning  the  affairs  at  the 
Dardanelles  or  out  in  the  Caucasus.  Distrust 
seems  to  have  invaded  every  circle.  Even  the 
Turks  feel  that  it  is  best  to  say  nothing  when  en- 
thusiasm fails  to  reach  exuberance.  One  might 
be  accused  of  being  an  ardent  Old  Turk — one  of 
a  class  that  swore  by  Prance  and  which  has  not 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

yet  embraced  the  German  as  warmly  as  the  gov- 
ernment desires. 

Business  everywhere  is  almost  at  a  standstill. 
Nothing  seems  to  matter  very  much  now.  Shop- 
keepers stand  in  front  of  their  places  of  business 
and  converse  sotto  voce,  while  looking  furtivelj^ 
about  them.  When  a  stranger  approaches,  shop- 
keeper and  passer-by  enter  the  store  and  engage 
in  the  stage  business  of  vending  and  buying.  The 
political  police  has  never  been  so  feared.  Bedri 
Bey,  the  head  of  this  institution,  has  become  the 
very  embodiment  of  terror,  though  as  a  club  mem- 
ber I  find  him  congenial  enough.  But  that  might 
be  different  were  I  an  Armenian  or  a  Greek. 

Everybody  here  suffers  from  the  uncertainty  of 
the  situation.  It  is  a  most  peculiar  state  of  affairs. 
The  Armenian  fears  massacre  in  case  the  Allied 
ships  break  in.  He  is  sure  that  the  Turk  will  visit 
his  rage  of  defeat  upon  him  in  that  case.  The  Turk, 
on  the  other  hand,  fears  the  same.  There  is  no 
love  lost  between  these  two. 

Though  the  Armenians  have  been  very  circum- 
spect, everybody  knows  that  they  would  welcome 
the  Allies  as  their  deliverers.  Nobody  expects 
the  Armenian  to  regret  the  fall  of  the  Ottoman 
Empire.  Ca  va  sans  dire.  The  Armenian  could  not 
love  his  Turkish  concitoyen  if  he  tried,  and  the 
Turk,  on  the  principle  that  we  hate  none  so  well 
as  those  whom  we  have  Avronged,  can  find  no  cause 
in  the  military  situation  and  its  possibilities  to 
change  his  feelings  toward  the  Armenian. 

There  is  much  speculation  as  to  what  the  atti- 
tude of  the  Greeks  would  be.    It  is  unlikely  that 

39 


FROM    HKRMN   TO  RAGDAD 

tlioy  would  side  with  I  lie  Arinoninns.  It  is  just. 
ns  unlikoly  llwit  I  hoy  would  help  tlie  Turks.  The 
Pi^rote  is  still  a  Byzantian.  He  is  that  in  a  peculiar 
manner.  If  there  is  such  a  tiling  as  a  disemboweled 
nationalism,  the  (ireek  of  Constantinople  has  it. 
His  is  a  i>atriotism  devoid  of  substance.  He  re- 
minds me  of  t  he  man  who  has  married  a  second  time 
and  is  still  in  love  with  his  first  wife.  If  a  Phote 
told  me  that  he  yearned  to  die  so  tliat  he  could 
join  his  Byzantian  compatriots  of  yore,  I  would 
not  be  surprised. 

The  Turk  understands  the  Greek  full  well  and 
does  not  seem  to  mind.  Toward  the  Armenian 
tlie  Turk  may  be  a  ruthless  master;  toward  the 
Greek  he  still  feels  the  intruder — the  man  who  took 
possession  of  property  that  was  not  his  and  who 
has  not  done  well  by  that  property.  The  thought 
is  subconscious,  but  it  is  there,  nevertheless.  The 
splendid  city  of  Constantine  has  sunk  to  the  level 
of  a  pretty  village  with  the  monuments  of  a  me- 
tropolis. Those  monuments  are  largely  Byzantian, 
and  whatever  metropolitan  aspect  the  city  now 
has  is  distinctly  Greek.  And  I  will  say  that  this 
aspect  is  not  mean.  It  still  reveals  the  genius  of 
the  Hellenes. 

Whether  Constantinople  falls  into  the  hands  of 
the  Allies  or  remains  in  those  of  the  Turks  makes 
no  difference  to  the  majority  of  Greeks.  There  is 
only  one  prayer  they  have :  God  keep  the  Russians 
out  of  the  city.  Anybody  but  the  Russians,  even 
the  Germans,  would  be  more  welcome  visitors. 
If  the  city  passed  to  the  control  of  the  French 
every  Greek  would  celebrate.     Toward  any  other 

40 


Copyright,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood 


A    STREET    IN    PER  A 

Pera  is  the  Levantine  (non-Moslem)  quarter  of  Constantinople,  being  inhabited 
by  Greeks,  Armenians,  Jews,  and  about  4,000  Europeans.  The  quarter  lies  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  Golden  Horn  against  a  very  steep  hillside  and  presents  a  most  pleasing  aspect. 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

authority  the  Greeks  would  be  as  indifferent  as 
they  are  toward  the  Turks. 

The  Turks  know  this  perfectly  well,  and  since 
they  themselves  would  prefer  to  be  Frenchmen, 
if  they  cannot  remain  Ottoman,  Turks  and  Greeks 
have  a  strong  tendency  in  common.  So  they  get 
along  well  together.  Both  feel  that  under  French 
government  they  would  be  well  off.  They  have 
agreed  tacitly  to  pull  together  in  that  case,  which 
means  that  the  French  would  not  have  an  easy 
time  ruling  on  the  Bosphorus.  But,  so  far  as  I  can 
learn,  that  would  not  prevent  certain  classes  of 
Greeks  from  at  least  enjoying  as  spectators  a  well- 
run  massacre  of  Turks  by  the  Armenians,  espe- 
cially if,  during  that  massacre,  enough  Armenians 
themselves  perished.  It  is  a  peculiar  frame  of 
mind  and  one  must  be  able  to  sense  Constantinople 
to  understand  and  appreciate  it. 

At  the  ministries  in  Stamboul  there  is  much 
gloom.  Nobody  there  knows  what  the  next  few 
days  will  bring.  Even  if  allowance  is  made  for  the 
range  handicaps  of  the  Ottoman  defense  works  at 
Kum  Kaleh  and  Sid-il-Bahr — shortcomings  which 
will  not  obtain  inside  the  strait — the  outlook  is, 
nevertheless,  none  too  good.  The  batteries  along 
the  outer  Dardanelles  may  hold,  will  hold,  for  a 
time.  But  how  long  will  they  hold.f*  That  is  the 
question  everybody  in  official  circles  would  ask, 
did  one  dare  to  ask. 

The  German  coast  artillery  experts  are  none  too 
sanguine.  They  are  men  of  objectivity.  They 
make  no  promises  for  the  future.  In  their  own 
grim  way  they  merely  reply  that  prognostication 

41 


FROM   RERUN   TO   BAGDAD 

ill  war  is  a  most  daii^'oroiis  pniciicc.  They  hold 
thai  it  is  lH\st  to  oxpoct  tlie  worst,  in  whicli  case 
ihvrv  will  ho  no  <iisai>i>()iulni(Mit  if  the  worst  comes 
to  pass,  while  there  will  be  occasion  for  rejoicing 
if  I  Ilium's  should  turn  out  well.  I  sup]X>se  tJiat  this 
is  ii  phase  of  their  thoroughness.  Don't  expect 
iinytJiing  and  you  won't  he  (Hsai)pointed.  It  is  a 
rather  gloomy  sort  of  philosophy,  but  it  has  its 
rewards,  I  sup])ose. 

The  (lerman  officers  put  me  in  mind  of  physi- 
cians handling  a  desperate  case.  The  "Sick  Man  of 
Europe"  is  really  desperately  ill.  A  major  opera- 
tion is  about  due.  Luckily,  the  patient  is  no  longer 
conscious.  The  German  diplomatists  administered 
the  narcotic  long  ago.  Saiid  Halim  Pasha,  the 
(irand  Vizier;  Tahuit  Bey,  the  INlinister  of  the  In- 
terior; and  Enver  Pasha,  Minister  of  War  and 
Vice-Generalissimo  of  the  Ottoman  army,  hold  the 
etlierizing  cone. 

It  is  hard  to  say  how  they  feel  about  it  now. 
They  reasoned,  however,  that  this  was  the  final 
chance  of  the  "Sick  Man,"  and  if  I  am  rightly  in- 
formed they  will  be  the  last  to  tremble  while  the 
ojXM-ation  goes  on.  Desperate  case,  desperate 
remedy,  seems  to  be  their  motto. 

Meanwhile,  the  former  Sultan,  Abdul  Haniid, 
lias  been  transferred  to  the  palace  of  Beylerbey. 
I  wonder  whether  the  news  of  the  great  event  at 
the  Dardanelles  has  come  to  him.  It  is  said  that 
the  present  Sultan,  Mohammed  Rechad  V,  steals 
of  nights  across  the  Bosphorus  and  consoles  his 
unfortunate  brother.  It  would  be  an  unusual  case 
of  fraternal  love,  if  this  were  true.    Abdul  Hamid 

42 


Kiyulc  Xemlkl 


MAP    OP    THE    DARDANELLES    STRAIT    AND     GALLIPOLI    PENINSULA, 

SHOWING    NAVAL    AND    MILITARY    OPERATIONS    OP    ALLIED    NAVAL 

AND   LANDED   FORCES,    1915 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

took  particular  pains  and  great  pleasure  in  keeping 
Mohammed  Rechad  in  jail  while  he  was  ruler  of 
the  Ottoman  Empire. 

At  any  rate,  if  Mohammed  visits  Abdul  the 
latter  is  bound  to  know  something  of  what  may 
come.  Since  Abdul  Hamid  was  not  unbeloved  by 
the  powers  before  the  Dardanelles,  it  is  quite  pos- 
sible that  he  may  again  rule  over  what  Turkey 
there  will  be  some  other  day. 

February  25th. 

Friend  Swing  and  I  negotiated  an  interview  with 
Enver  Pasha  under  peculiar  and  not  altogether 
auspicious  auspices  late  this  evening.  The  occa- 
sion deserves  mention  for  the  reason  that  it  shows 
what  initiative  has  to  be  exercised  by  a  poor  corre- 
sf)ondent  now  and  then. 

F.  Swing  and  I  have  agreed  to  be  good  fellows 
to  each  other.  He  is  not  to  "knife"  me,  and  I  am 
not  to  "knife"  him — a  sort  of  working  alliance  be- 
tween two  powers  likely  to  make  war  upon  each 
other. 

The  basis  of  this  treaty  of  peace  is  that  I  do 
most  of  my  work  over  the  cable,  while  Swing  does 
most  of  his  by  mail.  There  is  no  real  competition 
between  us,  though  I  can  see  right  now  where 
there  is  likely  to  be.  But  let  to-morrow  take 
care  of  itself.  I  never  pluck  a  quail  until  I  have 
him. 

F.  Swing  and  I  have  been  moving  heaven  and 
earth  to  interview  Enver  Pasha.  We  have  the 
lever,  but  lack  the  fulcrum. 

I  was  having  a  quiet  cup  of  tea,  all  to  myself, 

45 


FROM    BKRMX   TO   lUCDAD 

al    llu'  l\'lit   ("liil),  when  Swin^'  nislu'd  in,  l>r<>ul.li- 
loss.  and  lull  at  a  rakish  an^li'. 

"Wluil's  the  luiiTv?"  1  iiskcd,  setting  down  the 

CUJ). 

"What's  tlio  Imrry!"  retorted  Swing,  wit.Ii  a 
look  ol"  disgust.  "Smart,  ([uestion  thnt.  Eiivor 
Pushii  is  going  to  tlie  Dardanelles  to-night  for  a 
trip  of  inspection.  May  he  away  a  week,  I  nnder- 
stnind.  So  what's  the  hurry!  I  can't  see  how  we 
are  getting  closer  to  meeting  him,  can  you?" 

In  that  "ciin  you"  there  was  all  the  irony,  sar- 
casm, and  wrath  Swing  can  ])ut  into  words,  and 
that  is  not  little.  I  felt  almost  ashametl  that  he 
had  caught  me  drinking  tea.  He  had  run,  it  ap- 
peared. "Willi  a  handkerchief  he  was  swabbing 
the  inside  of  his  high  collar. 

"Have  some  tea  and  let's  tidk  it  over,"  I  sug- 
gested, wishing  to  make  Swing  an  accomplice. 

I  rang  the  bell,  and  without  consulting  my  irate 
colleague  ordered  tea  for  him. 

"When  is  Enver  Pasha  going.^"  I  asked. 

"Don't  know,"  replied  Swing,  not  yet  in  the 
best  of  humor.  "Here  I  run  around  all  day,  and 
you  sit  in  the  club,  taking  it  easy.  Fine  partner 
you  are.    Tliink  you  are  i)utting  it  over,  don't  you?" 

I  told  Swing  remorsefully'  that  I  had  no  such  in- 
tentions, that  as  a  matter  of  fact  I  knew  more  than 
he  did. 

"If  you  would  let  me  get  in  a  word  once  in  a 
while.  Swing,  you  wouldn't  have  to  shout  so  and 
use  so  much  bad  language,"  I  said.  "Now  let 
me  tell  you  a  few  things  while  you  have  your  tea. 
Enver  Pasha  leaves  aboard  the  Sultan's  yacht  for 

■IG 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

the  Dardanelles  at  one  alia  Turca,  which  is  to-night 
six  o'clock  and  nine  minutes  by  our  time.  He  is 
about  to  go  on  a  tour  of  inspection,  all  right,  but 
not  the  sort  you  have  in  mind.  There  is  something 
to  the  rumors  that  have  been  spread  by  the  Agence 
Tatavla  recently. 

"The  Allies  have  bombarded  and  silenced  the 
forts  at  Sid-il-Bahr  and  Kum  Kaleh.  I  verified 
this  at  the  German  naval  base  this  afternoon. 
The  thing  started  on  the  twentieth.  There  isn't 
much  left  of  the  Turkish  batteries,  I  understand. 
What  is  more,  the  Allies  have  brought  up  rein- 
forcements, among  them,  so  the  Germans  say,  the 
best  thing  in  fighting-ships  the  English  have,  to 
wit.  Her  Majesty  Queen  Elizabeth.  She  was  sighted 
two  days  ago  by  some  advance  agent  wiring  from 
Athens.  Yesterday  she  was  reported  off  Lemnos 
by  another. 

"The  fleet  of  the  Allies  is  a  large  one.  So  far 
it  consists  of  about  eight  English  and  six  French 
battle-ships  of  the  line,  several  cruisers,  a  regular 
herd  of  torpedo-boat  destroyers  and  torpedo-boats, 
not  to  mention  mine-sweepers,  submarines,  supply- 
ships,  hospital-ships,  and  what  not. 

"Drink  your  tea;  we'll  have  to  be  off  in  a  minute. 
The  Turkish  batteries  at  Kum  Kaleh  and  Sid- 
il-Bahr  are  a  memory.  There  isn't  enough  left  of 
most  of  them  to  show  you  where  they  were.  In 
Fort  Orchanieh  all  the  Germans  were  killed.  Hell 
is  loose  and  Enver  Pasha  is  going  down  to  see  what 
the  thing  looks  like.  Do  you  think  we  can  make 
that  interview  to-night?" 

F.  Swing  drank  his  tea  and  consumed  buttered 

4  47 


FROM    HKRLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

toast  like  ;i  man  wlio  luas  been  starved  for  a  week. 
Swinj;.  l>oin^'  a  lall  and  loan  sort,  of  man,  is  always 
hungry. 

"No,  I  don't  think  we  can  make  that  interview 
to-night,"  he  siiid,  with  gloom  written  all  over  his 
face.  Then  he  sweetened  his  disi)osition  with  a 
liberal  lump  of  marmalade.  "Why,  the  man  will 
Ih'  too  busy." 

"We'll  have  to  try,  anyway,"  I  remarked,  not 
sure  of  the  wisdom  of  my  words.  "We  want  to 
go  to  the  Dardanelles,  don't  we?  The  Germans 
tell  me  that  nothing  can  be  done  without  Enver 
Pasha's  consent.  That  consent  we  must  get  to- 
night." 

Swing  being  willing,  though  none  too  anxious, 
to  try  so  dangerous  a  game  as  waylaying  a  Turkish 
]\Iinister  of  War  about  to  go  on  so  nasty  an  errand, 
we  ordered  an  araba  and  embarked  upon  our 
weird-enough  mission. 

There  was  no  telling  what  might  happen.  We 
might  be  grabbed  up  by  some  zealous  sentry,  and 
at  least  spend  a  night  in  some  dirty  habyss,  the  most 
uncomfortable  variety  of  jail  I  can  imagine. 

The  rain  was  coming  down  bucketwise  as  we 
bumped  along  the  cobbled  streets  of  Pera  toward 
Galata  Quai.  Things  looked  gloomy  enough.  The 
few  street  lights  had  a  hard  struggle  with  the  un- 
friendliness of  the  night. 

"We  stand  a  swell  chance  seeing  Enver  Pasha 
to-night,"  grumbled  Swing.  "We  will  be  lucky 
if  they  do  not  pitch  us  overboard.  I  wish  I  were 
in  Chicago." 

"Can't  help  it.     Got  to  try,"  I  retorted,  feeling 

48 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

that  all  of  my  friend's  sour  remarks  were  directed 
at  me. 

It  was  deep  night  when  we  got  to  the  quay  at 
the  head  of  the  new  bridge  across  the  Golden 
Horn.  I  told  the  driver  to  turn  to  the  left  and  be 
quick  about  it.  Four  blocks  away  lay  a  small 
steamer,  well  lighted  and  with  the  steam-valve 
blowing  off.  That  boat  was  ready  to  sail;  even 
now  they  might  be  casting  off  the  hawsers. 

There  is  a  high  iron  fence  between  the  street 
and  the  quay  where  the  yacht  was  tied  up.  Through 
it  I  soon  espied  the  white  hull  of  the  boat;  further 
on  I  saw  a  gate,  and  a  sentry  pacing  up  and  down. 

When  the  araba  drew  up,  the  sentry  stopped  and 
showed  more  interest  than  we  really  cared  for. 
We  scrambled  out  of  the  conveyance,  told  the 
driver  to  wait,  and  then  headed  for  the  quay  as  if 
we  really  had  business  there. 

That  seemed  to  impress  the  German  sailor  on 
sentry.  He  had  placed  himself  near  the  middle 
of  the  entrance  by  way  of  an  invitation  for  us  to 
address  him.  But  he  was  as  uncertain  of  his  own 
position  as  we  were  of  ours.  We  brushed  past 
him  without  looking  in  his  direction.  That  im- 
pressed the  man  wonderfully.  He  stepped  back 
and  took  it  for  granted  that  we  had  business 
aboard  the  yacht.     Well,  so  we  had. 

At  the  foot  of  the  ladder  another  sentry  was  on 
duty.  He  was  not  so  easily  discounted.  The 
factor  of  space  was  in  his  favor,  moreover.  The 
man  stood  in  the  center  of  the  approach  to  the 
ladder,  and  evidently  proposed  to  be  spoken  to. 

I  did  speak   to  him.      He   inquired   what   my 

49 


FROM    liKRMX   TO   BAC.DAD 

nanio    was    aiul    wlial    llio   nature  of    our    errand 
couKl   l)r. 

1  told  liini  wo  h;ul  come  to  see  Enver  Pasha's 
cliief  of  staif.  (\)lonc>l  xon  Bronsart.  That  helped. 
The  siiilor  vokuiteered  the  information  that  the 
colonel  was  already  aboard,  and  then  permitted 
us  to  j)ass. 

Up  the  ladder  we  went,  losing  no  time.  There 
was  no  questioning  by  the  sentry  at  the  head  of 
the  ladder,  but  I  took  good  care  not  to  stop  near 
him  to  find  my  bearings.  To  hesitate  and  look 
around  would  have  been  courting  the  attention  of 
the  man.  He  would  have  asked  w^hom  we  wanted 
to  see,  and  that  might  have  led  to  trouble. 

So  we  walked  on  and  stepped  between  two  deck- 
houses to  make  a  hasty  survey  of  our  surroundings. 

The  deck  was  deserted,  as  it  well  might  be  in  the 
dri\'ing  rain.  The  faint  light  given  by  the  few 
incandescent  lamps  that  swung  from  their  wires 
in  the  wind  broke  in  glistening  streaks  on  the  white, 
wet  paint  of  the  cabin  walls. 

From  a  deck-house  on  the  poop  of  the  yacht 
gleamed  some  lighted  ports.  We  decided  that  we 
might  try  our  luck  there.  Our  feet  had  just  been 
put  in  motion  again  when  I  noticed  that  the  sentry 
at  the  top  of  the  ladder  was  w-ondering  what  had 
become  of  us.  He  came  around  the  corner  of 
the  superstructure  of  the  boiler-room  just  as  we 
meandered. 

At  the  aft  deck-house  our  search  for  somebody, 
anybody,  came  abruptly  to  an  end.  As  I  was  about 
to  open  its  door  it  moved  by  an  impulse  from  within. 
I  stepped  back  to  make  room  for  the  officer  in 

50 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

Ottoman  army  uniform  who  had  one  foot  up  for 
the  purpose  of  stepping  over  the  high  sill. 

That  foot  did  not  come  down  in  regular  time. 
As  it  p>oised  in  the  air  its  owner  looked  me  in  the 
face  with  a  gi-eat  deal  of  astonishment.  I  was  a 
stranger  to  him. 

There  was  surprise  in  the  officer's  voice  as  he 
spoke.  No  doubt  his  mind  operated  somewhat 
along  these  lines:  How  in  the  name  of  all  that  is 
holy  did  these  two  strangers  manage  to  get  aboard 
the  Sultan's  yacht? 

The  officer  said  something  to  that  effect  when 
speech  returned  to  him. 

I  overlooked  his  question  and  introduced  myself 
and  F.  Swing.  I  was  conscious  of  having  shown 
considerable  nonchalance  in  performing  this  cere- 
mony. Then  I  proceeded  to  state  our  mission; 
in  our  business  one  must  have  his  wits  about  him. 

"But  that  is  impossible,"  said  Colonel  von 
Bronsart,  who  had  now  introduced  himself.  His 
remark  was  polite  but  frigid.  "It  cannot  be  done! 
Ausgeschlossen — out  of  the  question  entirely!  His 
Excellency  is  about  to  sail.  He  has  no  time. 
You  will  do  me  a  favor,  and  save  yourself  some 
annoyance,  by  leaving  this  ship  immediately." 

The  invitation  was  plain  enough. 

"But  it  is  imperative  that  we  speak  to  His 
Excellency,"  I  interposed.  "We  have  come  to 
Turkey  to  view  the  military  operations.  We  can- 
not get  the  necessary  permission  from  Sefid  Bey 
unless  His  Excellency  interests  himself  in  the 
matter." 

Swing  added  a  few  words  to  the  same  effect. 

51 


FROM    liKRLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

IIo  lias  a  <li(>ll  way  of  cxprossing  himself  in  his 
Chica^o-acccnltHl  (lonnan.  The  ehief  of  stafT 
smiled.  There  is  ;i  strange  ai)])eal  for  some  men 
in  "broken"  speech. 

"Are  all  Americans  as  enterprising  and  persistent 
as  you  are?"  asked  tlie  colonel,  who  fell  the  need 
of  clianging  the  snbject. 

"NVe  opined  that  fpiite  a  few  were  that  and  more. 
Just  then  Colonel  Yansen,  the  German  liaison 
oflficer,  joined  the  group.  Swing  and  I  had  met 
him  before.  That  helped.  His  remarks  were  in 
our  favor. 

The  colonel  still  hung  in  the  wind.  The  fact 
was  that  he  w'as  in  an  embarrassment.  He  did 
not  want  to  turn  us  down,  but,  as  I  knew  well 
enough  and  admitted  tactfully,  it  was  awkward 
for  him  to  introduce  us  to  his  commander  at  such 
a  time  and  under  such  conditions. 

An  automobile  came  to  our  assistance.  It 
stopped  at  the  gate.  The  sentry  saluted  very 
smartly,  and  several  oflScers  stepped  from  the 
tonneau. 

"Here  is  His  Excellency  now,"  said  Colonel  von 
Bronsart.  There  was  a  ring  of  annoyance  in  his 
voice. 

The  colonel  hurried  off,  followed  by  Colonel 
Yansen  and  ourseh-es.  I  had  made  up  my  mind 
to  see  Enver  Pasha  that  evening  or  land  in  jail 
or  in  the  water.  I  sympathized  with  the  chief  of 
staff,  but  I  also  symj)athized  with  myself. 

We  rushed  along  tlie  wet  deck,  with  the  chief 
of  staff  in  the  lead  and  mj-self  in  the  rear.  Going 
down  the  ladder  we  had  to  slow  up.     The  steps 

52 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGPIT  OF  SITUATION 

were  slippery  from  the  rain,  and  it  certainly  would 
not  do  to  fall  into  the  presence  of  Turkey's  mighty 
war  lord. 

Enver  Pasha  must  have  waited  for  an  invita- 
tion from  his  chief  of  staff  to  go  aboard,  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort.  He  was  standing  at  the  foot 
of  the  ladder,  engaged  in  conversation  with  some 
of  the  officers  who  had  come  with  him.  The  meet- 
ing between  vice-generalissimo  and  chief  of  staff 
was  cordial,  almost  effusive.  Colonel  Yansen  also 
seemed  to  be  very  intimate  with  Enver. 

We  had  decided  not  to  get  too  near  to  the  group, 
and  so  about  five  steps  up  the  ladder  we  had  halted. 
Above  us  swung  an  electric  bulb.  Enver  Pasha 
seemed  interested  in  the  two  civilians  under  it. 
Meanwhile  I  was  making  a  survey  of  the  dapper 
and  smart  young  officer. 

With  the  greetings  over,  the  Ottoman  Minister 
of  W^ar  thought  it  proper  to  occupy  himself  with 
us.  I  did  not  hear  what  he  said,  but  that  he  had 
asked  a  question  concerning  the  two  civilians  was 
shown  by  the  manner  in  which  Colonel  Yansen 
turned  around  and  looked  at  us. 

The  psychological  moment  being  good  and  in  our 
favor,  I  hurried  to  the  foot  of  the  ladder  and 
stepped  in  front  of  Enver  Pasha.  Swing  did  like- 
wise.    I  introduced  Swing  first  and  then  myself. 

We  did  not  there  and  then  find  favor  in  the  eyes 
of  His  High  Mightiness.  For  that  I  could  not  blame 
the  pasha.  I  might  feel  the  same  way  about  it. 
The  intruder  is  a  most  obnoxious  sort  of  person. 

I  restated  the  purpose  of  our  presence,  watching 
intently  the  fine  Tartar  face  to  note  the  effect. 

53 


FROM    HKRl.IN     I'O    BA(;i)Al) 

'riim>  was  soiiu'lliiu^'  liko  a  scowl  on  Envoi' 
Paslia's  lianclsonu'  visage.  1  lu'^au  to  fear  that 
we  might  have  placed  the  two  colonels  in  an  awk- 
ward i)osition.  Having  stood  before  displeased 
superior  oflicers  myself  now  and  again,  I  had  no 
diUlcully  realizing  what  the  feelings  of  Colonels 
von  Bronsart  and  Yansen  might  be. 

It  was  a  most  awkward  situation.  Finally  Colo- 
nel von  Bronsart  took  a  hand.  I  will  say  for  liim 
that  he  proved  a  most  astute  strategist  there  and 
then.  He  explained  his  own  part  in  our  guest  role 
adroitly. 

Enver  Pasha  began  to  see  the  humor  of  the 
situation.     He  laughed. 

"Always  heard  that  these  Americans  stick  at 
nothing,"  he  said,  good-naturedly.  "Now  I  know 
this  to  be  true."  Military  gallantry  came  to  the 
front  in  him.    "Gentlemen,  I  am  at  your  service." 

We  proceeded  to  interview  Enver  Pasha  there 
and  then — in  the  driving  rain.  What  did  he  think 
of  the  Allied  fleet's  chances  of  getting  through? 

"Well,  they  may  get  through,"  replied  the  vice- 
generalissimo.  "But  they  will  not  get  through 
easily.  War  is  not  a  thing  on  which  people  should 
make  prophecies.  It  is  hard  to  say.  That  part  of 
the  situation  I  am  not  in  a  position  to  discuss." 

Enver  Pasha  admitted  that  so  far  the  Turkish 
batteries  at  the  entrance  to  the  strait  had  not 
fared  any  too  well.  But  he  hoped  that  those 
along  the  outer  Dardanelles  would  do  better.  He 
intimated  that  he  was  in  a  hurry  to  get  away. 

But  a  minute  or  two  did  not  matter  to  the  in- 
terviewers.     We   had   gone   to   too   much  trouble 

5^ 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

to  have  this  personage  shp  out  of  our  hands  so 
easily. 

*'Just  say,"  he  went  on,  "that  we  Turks  will 
defend  the  Dardanelles  with  the  last  man,  if  nec- 
essary. We  realize  that  it  will  be  hard  work,  that 
it  will  strain  our  resources,  and  that  our  losses 
will  be  heavy.  But  the  British  and  French  are 
not  through  yet.  We  Turks  have  never  laid  down 
and  will  not  do  it  in  this  instance.  We  know  that 
the  hour  has  come." 

I  asked  Enver  Pasha  for  permission  to  go  to  the 
Dardanelles — in  the  morning,  if  it  could  be  done. 
He  thought  it  over  for  a  second. 

"You  shall  have  that  permission,"  he  said, 
finally.  Then  he  turned  to  his  chief  of  staff.  "I 
think  we  can  trust  them,  eh.  Colonel.'*" 

"I  think  we  can.  Excellency!"  was  the  colonel's 
remark. 

"Very  well,  then,"  continued  Enver  Pasha.  "  You 
may  go.    I  will  give  the  necessary  instructions." 

I  bowed  in  acknowledgment. 

"But  there  is  one  thing  I  must  tell  you,"  con- 
tinued Enver,  "You  know  we  are  at  war.  Do  you 
know  what  war  is.^^" 

I  explained  that  Jupiter  Mars  and  I  were  no 
strangers;  that  once,  in  fact,  I  had  been  in  his 
service. 

"Then  you  know  what  military  law  is,  of  course," 
continued  the  Minister  of  War.  "If  your  friend 
does  not  know,  do  me  the  favor  to  explain  it  to 
him. 

"You  can  go  to  the  Dardanelles  and  see  every- 
thing, provided  you  place  yourself  under  Ottoman 

55 


FROM    1U:RIJN   to   lUCDAD 

iiiililarv  law  and  agrei'  lo  abide  by  its  provisions. 
If  your  conduct  at  the  front  should  warrant  the 
enforcement  of  any  part  of  this  law  against  you, 
\-ou  will  not  in  any  way  solicit  the  aid  of  your  em- 
bassy here.  Not  even  if  it  should  become  neces- 
sary for  you  to  face  a  firing-squad.  In  return  for 
that  you  will  get  from  me  ii  general  passport  that 
will  t^\ke  you  anywhere  you  may  wish  to  go. 

"Agreed?" 

F.  Swing  and  I  agreed.  Enver  Pasha  shook 
hands  with  us,  to  seal  the  agreement,  and  bid  us 
gootl-l\v.  He  was  most  genial  now.  As  he  climbed 
up  the  ladder  he  turned  around  and  saluted  us  with 
a  hearty  an  reroir. 

We  wished  him  hon  voyage,  and  Swing  thought 
that  we  had  been  foolish  not  to  have  gone  with 
him.  I  fro\\Tied  upon  this  idea,  and  on  the  way 
home  we  had  a  row  in  the  araha  over  the  eternal 
fitness  of  things.  It  seemed  to  me  tliat  for  one, 
evening  we  had  exercised  enterprise  enough. 

February  26th. 

To-day  F.  Swing  and  I  interviewed  together  the 
Grand  \'izier  of  the  Ottoman  Empire,  Prince 
Saiid  Halim  Pasha.  The  thing  was  a  complete 
success. 

The  Grand  Vizier  was  very  charming,  our  ques- 
tions were  happily  selected  and  deftly  put,  and 
the  coffee  and  cigarettes  of  His  Excellency  were 
excellent. 

Well,  things  are  coming  our  way.  F.  Swing  is 
satisfied.  He  is  beginning  to  swear  by  me  when  he 
is  not  swearing  at  me.     He  is  a  terrible  taskmaster. 

56 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

To  let  us  know  that  the  occasion  of  our  visit 
to  the  SubHme  Porte  was  no  ordinary  one,  the 
Grand  Vizier,  meeting  us  at  the  door  of  his  apart- 
ments, said  that  this  was  the  first  time  in  two  years 
that  he  had  met  newspaper-men. 

We  confessed  that  it  was  the  first  time  in  our 
promising  hves  that  we  had  the  honor  and  pleasure 
of  meeting  a  Grand  Vizier.  The  prince  said  the 
happiness  was  all  his;  we  insisted  that  this  was  not 
so.  Swing  especially  showed  up  well  in  this;  his 
salon  manners  are  simply  perfect. 

We  were  still  exchanging  compliments  as  we 
seated  ourselves  at  the  desk  of  the  Grand  Vizier. 
The  prince  explained  that  he  had  never  said  any- 
thing for  publication  since  this  ofiice  had  been  in- 
trusted to  him,  and  we  assured  him  that  he  had 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  men  who  would  treat  him 
right. 

I  left  it  to  Swing  to  put  our  victim  at  his  ease. 
My  colleague  is  the  born  diplomatist.  Once  in  a 
while  I  would  nail  down,  corroboratively,  some- 
thing he  said,  and  meanwhile  I  was  taking  stock 
of  our  surroundings. 

The  room  in  which  we  were  is  of  enormous  pro- 
portions. It  had  been  papered  in  a  very  simple 
manner,  and  there  was  but  little  furniture  in  it. 
Under  the  tall  windows,  overlooking  the  Bosphorus, 
lies  a  long  divan,  and  against  the  wall  back  of  us 
stood  a  score  of  chairs — all  in  a  row.  The  desk  of 
His  Excellency,  the  simple  swivel-chair  upon  which 
he  sat,  the  two  chairs  we  occupied,  and  a  bookcase 
— these  few  objects  seemed  lost  on  the  tremendous 
floor.     The  carpet  was  a  beauty,  I  concluded. 

57 


FROM    BERLIX   TO   l^AGDAD 

F.  Swin^  ^vas  niakinfc  a  drive  for  \\\c  intorviow 
alroady.  1  jiulf^od  that  tho  oflViisivo  came  a  little 
too  soon.  Thoy  are  novcr  in  a  liiirry  in  Turkey, 
and  wlion  you  show  hurry  yourself  you  make  these 
|)eo]>le  suspicious.  Thoy  get  the  notion  that  you 
want  to  take  something  away  from  them. 

"Your  Highness  believes  in  simplicity,"  I  said, 
in  ]>ursuance  of  the  objective  I  had  in  mind. 

"jNIy  wants  are  not  great,"  replied  the  prince, 
with  an  engaging  smile.  "I  prefer  lots  of  air  and 
light  to  stuffy  hangings  and  useless  furniture. 
^Vhat  is  the  use  of  having  things  around  you  do 
not  need.'" 

All  this  in  the  purest  English  that  one  could  \v'ish 
to  hear. 

I  noticed  that  His  Highness  was  trying  to  culti- 
vate the  Ix^ard  which  tradition  imposes  upon  the 
Grand  \'izier.  The  result  had  not  been  a  particu- 
larly happy  one  so  far.  The  hair  was  altogether 
too  thin  and  too  light  in  color  to  make  much  of  a 
showing.  Oom  Paul  Kriiger,  last  president  of  the 
South  African  Republic,  had  the  same  trouble.  I 
did  not  comment  upon  that  fact,  naturally.  Refer- 
ence to  this  little  tragedy  might  spoil  his  fine 
humor.  The  least  it  would  do  would  be  to  remind 
him  that  much  in  life  is  vanity.  Vanitas,  vani- 
tatum  vanitas! 

F.  Swing  had  the  lead  again. 

"So  you  have  come  to  interview  me,"  said  the 
prince,  with  a  laugh  that  showed  he  had  not 
been  in  ignorance  of  the  purpose  of  our  visit. 
"What  do  you  want  to  know.'  Ask  any  question, 
gentlemen,  and  I  will  take  pleasure  in  answering." 

58 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

The  Grand  Vizier  was  as  good  as  his  word.  F. 
Swing  put  a  leading  question: 

"The  assertion  made  by  the  Entente  press  and 
governments  that  we  went  to  war  for  the  purpose 
of  helping  the  Germans  is  absurd,"  replied  the 
Grand  Vizier. 

Just  then  the  servant  entered  with  the  coffee 
— three  cups  of  Mocha  alia  Turca,  done  to  the 
queen's  taste.  The  prince  handed  us  each  a 
cigarette  and  lit  a  match.  In  Turkey  one  offers 
the  box  of  cigarettes  only  to  inferiors,  so  that  they 
may  take  as  many  as  they  like. 

While  we  sipped  coffee  and  smoked  the  best 
Kavala  tobacco,  the  Grand  Vizier  went  over  the 
situation  in  Turkey.  Swing  and  I  listened  at- 
tentively. 

"It  is  quite  true  that  the  Entente  governments 
offered  us  a  guarantee  that  for  thirty  years  the 
integrity  of  the  Ottoman  Empire  would  be  re- 
spected," said  Prince  Saiid  Halim  Pasha.  "To  be 
exact,  that  meant  that  if  we  stayed  out  of  the  war 
the  Entente  was  not  to  touch  our  territory  for 
the  period  named. 

"But  guarantees  count  .for  so  little  nowadays" 
— the  Grand  Vizier  smiled  wanly  and  as  one  who 
could  see  the  funny  side  of  a  funeral — "and  Turkey 
has  had  so  many  guarantees.  When  it  comes  to  guar- 
antees we  Turks  could  tell  a  tale  of  woe  that  would 
bring  tears  to  the  eyes  of  a  stone  image.  We  have 
had  our  fill  of  guarantees.  We  really  want  no 
more  of  them.  It  is  going  to  be  a  sad  time  for 
guarantees  until  this  war  is  over.  I  have  no  faith 
in  guarantees. 

59 


FROM   BERLIN  TO   BAGDAD 

"And  I  lion  Nvlmt  (Kh's  a  j^nuranlcf  moan?  It 
moans  llial  yon  admit  I  ha  I  soniobody  has  tho 
riirhl  lo — woll,  j)rt)lool  yon.  And  lliis,  in  turn, 
moans  lliat  yon  snrrondor  your  sovoroignty,  lock, 
stock,  and  Uirrol.  It  moans  that  tlioroai'tor  you 
ask  permission  of  somo  other  govornmojit  if  you 
want  to  do  anylhinj;- — i>orhai)s  the  very  thing  that 
ought  to  he  done.  We  have  asked  other  govern- 
ments long  enough,  and  the  Entente  governments 
have  boon  among  them.  We  know  what  bargains 
they  make. 

"A  protected  Turkey  means  a  dependent  Turkey. 
We  believe  that  we  ought  to  be  independent — 
more  independent  than  we  have  been  in  the  past. 
Others  do  not  think  so,  of  course.  But  we  do. 
That  is  a  matter  of  opinion  which  this  war  may 
settle  forever.  Wo  are  all  entitled  to  our  opinions. 
You  are,  I  am,  we  are." 

That  naturally  brought  the  Grand  Vizier  to  the 
abolition  of  the  capitulations — extra-territorial  con- 
cessions wi'ung  from  the  Turks  by  many  of  the 
governments  of  the  world. 

"Even  the  Germans  opposed  that  step,"  ex- 
plained the  prince.  "But  that  is  a  matter  I  do  not 
care  to  go  into  now.  At  any  rate,  we  have  abol- 
ished the  capitulations.  Hereafter  the  foreigner  who 
thinks  Turkey  good  enough  to  live  in  must  think 
our  laws  and  courts  good  enough  to  conform  to. 

"We  also  propose  to  show  more  interest  in  the 
future  in  the  foreign  schools  and  missions  in  the 
empire.  Some  of  these  establishments  have  turned 
out  young  men  who  are  not  satisfied  with  our 
government.    That  will  liave  to  stop. 

00 


WHAT  SOME  TURKS  THOUGHT  OF  SITUATION 

"That  these  institutions  have  been  of  great 
value  to  the  state  I  will  admit,  but  they  would  have 
been  of  greater  value  to  all  concerned  had  they 
borne  in  mind  that  we  cannot  make  of  Turkey 
an  ultra-modern  state  overnight. 

"The  schools  and  missions,  instead  of  enjoining 
their  pupils  to  work  for  better  government  with 
the  Turks,  have  fostered  sedition.  That  must 
stop.  We  will  stop  it,  if  we  have  to  close  every 
foreign  school  and  mission  in  the  empire." 

Saiid  Halim  Pasha  then  explained  that  foreign 
schools  and  missions  throughout  Turkey  had  al- 
ready been  placed  under  the  supervision  of  the 
Ottoman  Ministry  of  Education.  There  had  been 
trouble  when  the  inspectors  of  the  Ministry  ap- 
peared on  the  scene.  There  had  been  so  much 
trouble,  in  fact,  that  the  Ottoman  government  had 
for  the  time  being  withdrawn  the  inspectors.  The 
prince  also  volunteered  the  information  that  these 
inspectors  were  not  fitted  for  the  work.  Most  of 
them  were  woefully  ignorant. 

"It  has  long  been  fashionable  to  look  askance 
at  anything  the  Turkish  government  does,"  con- 
tinued the  Grand  Vizier.  "We  find  it  impossible 
to  please  anybody.  We  are  to  blame  for  that  to 
quite  an  extent.  Government  in  Turkey  has  been 
an>i;hing  but  good.  It  is  not  good  even  to-day. 
"The  Young  Turks  have  been  in  power  since 
the  revolution.  We  have  been  running  the  state  for 
five  years  now.  That  is  not  long.  I  wish  that  the 
world  would  be  reasonable  enough  to  see  that  we 
cannot  make  over  the  empire  in  five  years.  That 
will  take  decades.     What  the  world  expects  from 

61 


FROM    UKRLIX   TO    HACDAD 

us  to-dcay  \V(>  may  liav(>  ;icconi])IisIi('(l  (woiity  years 
\\oncc. 

"\V(>  lli(>n<;lil  al  first  wo  could  upply  liore  some 
form  of  government  th;ii  had  been  used  with 
success  in  the  Occident.  We  tried  that,  hut  found 
it  to  he  a  mistake.  Before  a  Western  form  of 
government  can  he  establislied  in  Turkey  the  atti- 
tude of  the  po]>uhition  toward  government  must 
1)0  changed.  We  are  somewhat  in  tlie  jwsition  of 
the  Latin  American  coimtries  whose  constitutions 
])rescrihc  a  democratic  form  of  government,  but 
nnIioso  heads  .are  dictators  at  best. 

"All  we  need  is  time  and  the  recognition  on  the 
part  of  others  that  we  are  really  doing  our  best 
to  make  a  modern  state  of  the  Ottoman  Empire. 
To  get  that  time  is  the  thing  we  are  fighting  for." 

Saiid  Halim  Pasha  is  an  Oxford  man.  His  family 
is  one  of  the  oldest  in  Egypt.  Orient  and  Occident 
are  well  mixed  in  him,  though  not  merged.  He  is 
still  of  the  East,  and  above  all,  he  is  an  ardent  Turk. 

The  interview  lasted  the  greater  part  of  an  hour, 
and,  as  we  left,  the  Grand  Vizier  w^as  on  the  verge 
of  forgetting  that  he  was  a  Highness  and  all  that. 
Swing  and  I  found  the  pronoun  you  so  very  con- 
\-oniont  that  we  lapsed  into  it  at  every  turn.  Saiid 
Halim  Pasha  never  betrayed  that  he  did  not  enjoy 
our  informality.  W'hen  he  said  that  we  were  to 
call  again  he  meant  it. 


Ill 

AT   THE   SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

THE  passport  of  which  Enver  Pasha  spoke 
did  not  come — that  sort  of  thing  will  happen 
in  Turkey.  The  Minister  of  War  had,  indeed, 
given  the  instructions.  But  in  the  harhiyeh  nasaret 
in  Stamboul  it  was  still  the  rule  that  what  Enver 
Pasha  did  not  attend  to  in  person  was  sure  to  be 
overlooked. 

Instead  of  the  passports  came  word  from  Cor- 
vette-Captain Humann,  commander  of  the  German 
naval  base  at  Constantinople,  that  we  were  ex- 
pected at  the  front.  Enver  Pasha  had  informed 
the  commander  at  the  Dardanelles  that  he  would 
have  company.  That  worthy  person  had  made  ar- 
rangements for  our  transportation,  and  so  it  came 
about  that  we  set  out  on  nothing  more  than  a 
letter  from  the  naval-base  commander. 

That  letter  reached  us  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  F.  Swing  and  I  had  dined  together, 
and  then,  just  to  kill  time,  as  some  people  would 
put  it,  we  had  gone  to  the  Garten  Bar  cabaret  in 
Les  Petits  Champs.  It  was  our  intention  to  take 
a  cup  of  coffee  and  then  turn  in.  But  the  cabaret 
was  good  and  lasted  long.  We  had  something  else, 
5  63 


FROM    BERLIN  TO   BAGDAD 

;iiul  tlnu  soiiu'  luoiv.  At  the  wee,  small  hour  of 
throe  we  decided  lo  hunt  the  hay,  but  found  the 
letter  instead. 

Tlie  j^ood  hott^i  porlirr  liad  stuck  that  most  im- 
IH>rl:int  letl(>r  in  the  i)i<j;eon-hole,  and  had  we  fol- 
lowed our  first  impulse  we  would  have  gone  to 
bed  before  the  letter  was  delivered;  in  that  event 
we  would  have  gotten  it  next  morning,  when  the 
destro.N'er  on  which  we  were  to  go  to  the  Darda- 
nelles had  been  under  way  for  four  or  five  hours. 
Newspaper-men  are  anything  but  early  risers. 

While  I  read  the  letter  F.  Swing  was  doing  a 
sort  of  Highland  fling  on  the  marble  floor  of  the 
hotel  lobby.  He  was  overjoyed,  simply  over- 
joyed. 

As  usual,  there  was  a  large  fire  that  night.  We 
heard  the  fire-fighters  of  Pera  make  an  awful  noise 
with  brass  horns.  Swing,  in  that  cocksure  way  of 
his,  opined  that  the  blowing  of  horns  would  not 
put  out  the  fire.  He  always  found  it  hard  to  under- 
stand some  phases  of  life  in  the  Orient.  Wliile 
we  were  packing  our  things  for  that  momentous 
and  fateful  trip,  I  explained  to  him  that  it  was 
quite  within  the  bounds  of  possibility  that  this 
blare  of  brass  did  have  a  purpose.  In  the  first 
place,  the  racket  would  rouse  all  the  people  in  the 
neighborhood  of  the  fire,  and,  secondly,  it  might 
remind  others  to  see  that  all  their  fires  were  in 
bounds. 

We  had  a  fight  then  and  there.  I  insisted  that 
it  was  customary  in  the  East  to  lock  the  barn  after 
the  horse  was  stolen.  Swing,  being  much  of  an 
Oricntophile,  if  there  be  such  a  noun,  resented  that, 

64 


AT  THE   SHELL-RAKED  DARDANELLES 

and  said  that  I  could  see  no  good  in  any  people. 
One  has  to  love  humanity  at  large  as  Swing  does 
to  be  utterly  blind  to  racial  faults. 

When  we  stepped  out  into  the  street  and  began 
to  cast  about  for  an  araba  it  was  raining  in  streams 
again.  Swing  hunted  in  one  direction  for  a  hack, 
I  in  another,  and  the  night  porter  in  still  another. 
In  about  ten  minutes  Swing  returned  with  an 
araba,  and  the  porter  also  had  managed  to  find 
one. 

In  two  minutes  I  had  another  row  on  my  hands. 
Swing  thought  that  one  of  the  arabadjis  should 
make  himself  absent,  but  the  driver  disagreed  with 
him.  Nor  would  Swing  pay  for  service  that  had 
not  been  rendered.  He  is  a  stickler  in  some  things. 
When  I  offered  to  pay  the  man  my  friend  would 
not  let  me.  There  was  quite  a  disturbance,  and 
before  long  we  had  the  editors  of  the  Greek 
daily,  Chronos,  who  labor  in  a  somber  building 
across  the  street  from  the  hotel,  sticking  their 
heads  out  of  the  windows. 

I  ended  the  difficulty  by  suggesting  that  the  bag- 
gage be  carried  in  one  araba  and  the  war  correspond- 
ents in  another.  That  helped.  Swing  agreed  with 
me  that  it  was  unseemly,  anyway,  to  have  real 
war  correspondents  travel  together  with  their  bag- 
gage. 

Life  is  one  subterfuge  after  another. 

At  six  o'clock  we  were  on  the  steamer  General, 
headquarters  of  the  German  naval  base.  An 
obliging  orderly  made  us  a  cup  of  coffee- — which 
we  needed  after  so  strenuous  a  night  of  cabaret, 
packing,  and  hunting  for  carriages. 

65 


1  ROM   RERUN  TO  BAGDAD 

Willi  \\\c  comforting  fluid  tucked  away  we  made 
for  the  /////.s7/  or  tender.  Tliere  was  a  high  sea 
running  in  tlie  Bosphorus,  and  as  we  tumbled 
down  the  hidder  Swing  almost  landed  in  the  funnel 
of  the  steam-cutter. 

We  enjoyed  our  matutinal  ablutions  while  we 
were  trying  to  get  to  the  destroyer,  the  Peik-i- 
ShrfkcL   that    was  to  take  us  to  the  Dardanelles. 

I  nuist  exi>lain  here  that  Swing  was  in  fine  civilian 
gar!)  and  that  his  outer  raiment  was  a  very  ex- 
IXMisive  fur  coat.  He  had  shown  up  in  the  Ottoman 
cai)ital  to  study  the  political  situation,  and  had 
neglected  to  get  himself  clothing  suitable  for  wear 
at  a  military  front. 

My  friend  had  never  been  to  a  front  in  his  life, 
and,  being  mostly  a  philosopher  and  a  "fan"  in 
the  matter  of  classical  music,  he  could  not  under- 
stand what  military  exigencies  are.  I  had  done 
all  sorts  of  war  for  fifteen  years  and  could  no  longer 
be  caught  in  that  manner. 

The  mush  shipped  several  fine  weaves  and  Swing 
began  to  worry  how  the  delicate  fur  in  his  coat 
would  stand  the  soaking.  Before  very  long  he 
comi)lained  of  finding  it  hard  to  carry  the  fur 
coat.  It  was  licking  up  water  like  a  sponge  and 
Swing  is  not  a  very  strong  man. 

We  clambered  aboard  the  Peik  and  were  under 
way  a  minute  later.  As  we  rounded  the  Serai 
Point  of  Stamboul  and  raced  into  the  Sea  of  Mar- 
mora, the  little  tub  stuck  her  nose  into  a  frightfully 
high  mixture  of  headwind  and  sea.  In  a  jifFy  the 
deck  was  awash  and  we  had  to  go  below. 

In  the  commander's  cabin  we  had  introductions 

60 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED  DARDANELLES 

and  breakfast.  Most  of  the  latter  we  caught  on 
the  wing,  so  to  speak.  The  tail  end  of  that  little 
destroyer  wagged  in  a  most  exasperating  manner. 
When  the  Peik  stuck  her  nose  out  of  the  water 
her  bow  went  down  with  a  speed  that  took  the 
chair  from  under  one,  and  when  she  reversed  this 
maneuver  one  had  the  impression  that  the  low 
ceiling  of  the  cabin  was  about  to  raise  a  bump  on 
one's  cranium. 

Swing  struggled  manfully  with  the  food  and 
liquids  before  him.  He  held  his  cup  of  tea  and  rum 
in  the  left  hand,  and  with  the  right  he  tried  to 
]>eel  a  soft-boiled  egg.  That  he  managed.  But  he 
was  less  successful  when  he  tried  to  get  away  with 
a  plate  of  pilaff  and  chicken  liver  with  a  fork.  He 
had  better  luck  with  the  spoon. 

The  Turkish  and  German  naval  oflBcers  who  were 
running  the  Peik  were  hardened  sinners.  With 
breakfast  stowed  away,  they  began  to  smoke. 
That  was  a  little  too  much  for  Swing.  He  began 
to  criticize  the  smallness  of  the  cabin  and  also 
found  fault  with  the  racing  of  the  propellers  direct- 
ly under  us.  The  fact  was  that  Swing  was  being 
attacked  by  vial  de  mer. 

So  we  ventured  on  deck  again,  where  we  found 
refuge  in  the  gun-turret. 

Toward  noon  the  sea  subsided  a  bit  and  the  gun 
crews  were  set  to  drill.  I  watched  the  work  with 
considerable  interest,  but  first  with  little  under- 
standing. My  artillery  work  had  been  done  on 
terra  firma. 

How  those  chaps  could  hope  to  hit  anything 
from  that  pitching  deck  was  beyond  me.     I  said 

67 


FROM    HKRLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

as  miK-li  to  I  lie  comniandtM-  of  [\\v  Pcilc.  He  thought 
(hat  this  was  not  so  (hlhcnlt  as  I  thought.  I  was 
to  try.  I  ditl  try,  hut  I  was  not  convinced  that  I 
couUi  hit  the  broadside  of  a  barn  at  fifty  yards 
wlien  my  trying  was  over. 

There  was  ground  for  behef  that  AlHed  sub- 
marines were  busy  in  the  Sea  of  Marmora.  Four 
sailors  were  set  out  to  watch  for  them.  In  front 
of  their  sUitions  were  horizontal  indicator  disks 
with  a  hand  on  them.  If  a  man  saw  a  submarine 
he  was  to  set  that  hand  in  its  direction  and  give 
the  alarm.  The  sentinels  did  fine  work.  They  re- 
jxjrted  nothing. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  Sea  of  Marmora  can 
be  as  ugly  a  sheet  of  water  as  one  may  wish  to  sail 
in  a  small  craft.  The  waves  are  short  and  choppy, 
and  run  high. 

The  Peik  is  built  for  speed,  and  for  reasons  best 
known  to  himself  the  commander  was  driving  her 
as  fast  as  he  could.  The  least  improvement  in  the 
weather  caused  him  to  add  a  knot  or  two  to  her 
speed.  There  were  times  when  we  were  making 
well  above  twenty  knots  under  forced  draught. 
That  meant,  of  course,  that  the  fore  of  the  steel 
shell  was  constantly  under  w^ater. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  we  sighted  the  town  of 
Gallipoli,  and  when  the  racket  of  the  racing  pro- 
peller and  the  swish  of  the  sea  subsided  for  an 
instant  the  noise  of  artillery  fire  from  the  south 
was  distinctly  audible.  The  great  battle  was  on. 
I  feared  that,  after  all,  I  was  too  late. 

Going  through  the  Inner  and  Central  Straits  I 
had  a  chance  to  take  a  look  at  the  country.     It 

68 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

seemed  as  gray  and  desolate  as  the  low  clouds 
above — low  hills  and  high  hills  with  bare  flanks; 
here  and  there  a  little  valley  with  a  few  houses 
or  a  little  koi  (village)  in  it.  That  seemed  to 
be  all. 

It  was  dark  when  we  reached  the  town  of  Dar- 
danelles, also  known  as  Tchanak  Kaleh  and  Kaleh 
Sultanieh.  The  Greeks  have  another  name  for  the 
place,  and  the  Armenians  still  another. 

After  the  setting  of  the  sun  the  wind  had  gained 
new  fury.  The  heavenly  sluices  also  again  stood 
wide  open. 

With  the  Allied  fleet  at  the  entrance  to  the  Dar- 
danelles, all  lights  in  the  port  were  doused,  of  course. 
Inky  blackness  reigned,  and  the  commander  of 
the  destroyer  feared  that  he  might  set  his  craft 
on  the  rocks;  The  result  of  this  was  long  flounder- 
ing and  steaming  in  circles.  How  the  man  kept 
his  bearings  I  do  not  know.  I  was  glad  when 
finally  the  anchor  splashed  in  the  water. 

Getting  off  the  Peik-i-Shefket  was  no  mean  under- 
taking. First  we  had  to  wait  for  some  sort  of  a 
lighter.  When  it  came  we  thought  that  our  troubles 
were  over,  at  least  in  part.  But  that  was  not  to 
be  the  case. 

It  was  not  easy  to  get  into  that  lighter.  As 
she  bobbed  up  the  destroyer  flopped  down.  When 
we  thought  that  now  was  come  the  moment  for 
that  fateful  jump,  the  lighter  would  recede  again 
and  be  lost  in  the  dark. 

The  situation  gave  rise  to  much  conversation 
and  planning.  The  best  thing  would  have  been 
to  make  a  light.     But  that  was  out  of  the  ques- 

69 


FROM    liERLIN   TO   BACDAD 

tion.  Tho  scarcli-li^rlils  of  llio  Allied  ships  ro- 
iiiiiulod  us  o{  the  reason. 

After  iiiiK'h  ado  in  the  Stygian  darkness,  F. 
Swing  and  I,  together  with  a  few  oilier  passengers 
whom  we  had  not  se(>n  en  route,  found  ourselves  in 
the  bottom  of  that  lighter.  There  was  already 
much  water  ahout  our  feet  and  more  was  coming 
oN'er  the  gunwale. 

My  leather  coat  was  doing  fine  service,  and, 
naturally,  Swing's  fine  fur  coat  was  not.  To  ward 
oft'  some  of  the  water  that  was  spilling  over  my 
friend,  I  stei)ped  between  him  and  the  seas  and 
hoped  that  something  would  happen  soon. 

Poor  F.  Swing!  He  sent  a  prayer  into  the  dark- 
ness that  the  lighter  be  started  on  her  way.  He 
mentioned,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  that  we  were  ready 
to  go  ashore.  He  cajoled,  i)leaded,  suggested,  for- 
god-saked,  and  finally  cursed — damned  things  as 
any  nice  boy  will  do.  What  he  said  was  really 
nothing  very  bad,  since  Swing  is  a  philosopher  and 
a  nmsician. 

What  they  were  waiting  for  I  have  never  dis- 
covered. Half  a  dozen  times  we  were  on  the  verge 
of  departure,  when  somebody  on  the  destroyer 
stopped  us  again.  The  ways  of  the  sea  have  always 
been  beyond  me. 

We  were  glad  when  finally  the  patience  of  the 

hawser  gave  way.     The  cable  snapped  with  a  bang. 

Somebody  on  the  destroyer  said,  ''  Eyi,  eyi"  which 

is  the  Turkish  for  our  "all  right,"  and  we  drifted 

off — drifted  off  in  the  direction  of  the  Allied  fleet, 

which  was  still  very  busj'  cutting  dashes  into  the 

black  night  with  its  projectors. 

70 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

On  the  trip  down  I  had  heard  something  of  a 
mine-field  near  Dardanelles.  I  thought  of  that 
and  wondered  what  would  happen  in  case  the  lighter 
drifted  that  far  with  the  current.  But  there  was 
still  hope.  On  the  little  tug  that  was  to  tow  us  into 
the  port — and  Heaven  only  knew  where  that  port 
was — there  was  a  tiny  red  light.  That  little  light 
was  floating  near  us  and  from  its  direction  came 
voices.  Then  a  bell  clanked  a  signal,  sparks  rose 
from  somewhere  in  the  dark,  a  propeller  began  to 
churn  the  sea,  and  a  cable  in  front  of  us  shook  off 
much  water  as  it  squirmed  under  the  stress. 

Well,  something  was  doing  at  last. 

Next  to  me  stood  a  man.  I  could  not  make  out 
his  face,  but  I  thought  it  well  to  ask  him  where 
Dardanelles  really  was.  It  so  happened  that  the 
man  was  an  Ottoman  naval  officer  who  had  inti- 
mate knowledge  of  the  strait.  He  spoke  English 
quite  well. 

"It  is  somewhere  to  the  left  of  us,  effendim,"  he 
said. 

That  was  vague,  but  it  was  something,  anyway. 

Just  then  we  bumped  into  an  object  that  turned 
out  to  be  a  wooden  pier. 

The  tug  churned  on  a  little  more;  we  came  into 
quiet  water  and  struck  a  quay  with  full  force. 
The  timbers  of  the  lighter  groaned,  and  Swing 
fell  from  the  heap  of  things  he  had  been  standing 
on — somebody's  baggage,  not  his  own. 

By  now  we  were  chilled  to  the  bone.  The  last  day 
in  February,  even  at  the  Dardanelles,  is  no  volupt- 
uous summer  night.  A  cold  wind  was  blowing  over 
us  from  somewhere,  borea  de  sirocco,  who  knew! 

71 


FROM   liERLIX    TO   RACDAD 

Hill  \vi>  in;ni;i<,'(Ml  lo  p>l  out.  ol'  that  li^'hter, 
made  sure  that  iiolxxly  had  (Iccaiiipcd  with  our 
hat,'K«i^'t''  Ji"tl  ^^i^''i  ^i^'^*^  couiK-il  as  to  whul  we  were 
to  do.  Where  did  we  have  to  report?  Where  could 
we  spend  the  ni^ht  ? 

'I'hose  were  great  (jiiestions.  I  suggested  that 
we  go  to  the  headquarters  of  Admiral-General 
von  Tsedoni  Paslui,  insi)ector-general  of  the  Turk- 
isli  eoiist-defense  scheme.  But  where  were  those 
headquarters? 

We  started  out  in  search  of  them.  The  search 
was  long  and  arduous. 

A  town  expecting  to  be  blown  out  of  the  ground 
every  minute  of  the  day  and  night  does  not  indulge 
in  street-lighting.  Tchanak  Kaleh  was  no  excep- 
tion to  tills.  Not  a  ray  of  light  could  be  seen.  It 
was  still  so  dark  that  we  could  not  even  tell  how 
high  the  buildings  were. 

Somebody  had  told  us  that  the  major  part  of 
"Pot  Castle"— for  that  is  the  meaning  of  "Tcha- 
nak Kaleh,"  lay  to  our  right.  That  scant  advice 
we  had  heeded.  We  walked  on  for  about  two 
city  blocks.  Some  voices  coming  from  the  dark, 
I  also  lifted  mine,  and  presently  four  Ottoman 
soldiers  stood  near  us. 

In  the  course  of  time  I  have  learned  how  to 
tidk  with  my  hands.  I  graduated  in  that  accom- 
plishment on  the  South-African  veldt,  and  later 
took  a  post-graduate  course  in  Mexico,  where  I 
recorded  the  doings  of  a  score  of  insurrecto  leaders. 

This  I  tried  on  the  askers,  after  I  had  ascertained 
that  they  knew  not  one  of  the  forms  of  speech  with 
which  I  am  acquainted.    The  askers  were  very  sym- 

7se 


Copyright,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood 

GERMAN    OFFICERS    AT   THE    DARDANELLES 

From  right  to  left:  Von  Usedom  Pasha,  Inspector-General  of  Ottoman  Coast 
Defenses;  Merten  Pasha,  technical  expert;  Machmed  Bey,  Turkish  liaison  officer; 
Prince  Henry  of  Reuss,  XXXIX,  in  charge  of  the  Dardanelles  mine-fields. 


Copyriyht,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood 

ESSAD    PASHA,    TURKISH   COMMANDER   AT   ARIBURNTT 

It  was  Essad  Pasha's  task  to  keep  back  at  Ariburnu,  the  northern  front  on  Gallipoli, 
the  valiant  and  impetuous  Anzacs.  He  once  confessed  to  the  author  that  the  "job  kept 
him  very,  very  busy,"  as  he  put  it.     Essad  Pasha  is  the  valiant  defender  of  Janina. 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

pathetic,  but  at  first  dubious  as  to  the  meaning  of 
my  strange  words  and  gesticulations.  They  held 
a  long  council  among  themselves  and  finally  said 
"'ewweV  a  good  many  times.  That  word  I  knew 
to  mean  yes. 

Just  to  show  that  they  were  good  fellows,  the 
four  men  took  our  baggage  and  started  off. 

We  measured  many  a  pool  after  that.  It  was  a 
soggy  night,  indeed.  My  feet  knew  that  they  were 
on  a  pavement  of  cobblestones,  but  they  could 
not  guess  that  there  were  so  many  deep  gutters 
about.  At  first  that  worried  us  a  bit,  but  after 
we  had  stepped  into  a  rushing  stream  that  laved 
our  knees  it  really  did  not  matter  how  much  wetter 
our  feet  got.  Swing  had  long  ago  shipped  water 
into  his  low  shoes.  But  now  the  water  had  run 
into  my  boots.    That  was  reassuring. 

About  midnight  we  finally  got  to  the  headquar- 
ters of  von  Usedom  Pasha.  Our  reception  was 
frigid,  reserved,  and  not  encouraging.  A  major  by 
the  euphonious  name  of  Schneider  gave  us  a  hint 
that  headquarters  had  more  important  things  to 
do  than  charge  itself  with  the  care  of  civilians.  I 
said  that  our  claims  upon  his  hospitality  would 
not  be  heavy.  All  we  wanted  was  a  place  to  sleep 
that  night.    But  the  man  was  obdurate. 

Fortunately,  Admiral  -  General  Merten  Pasha 
showed  up  at  the  moment  in  which  the  major  de- 
cided that  his  high-priced  brains  could  not  be 
employed  in  the  interest  of  two  war  correspondents. 
I  addressed  the  pasha,  stated  our  predicament, 
and  found  a  sympathetic  nature. 

Merten   Pasha   went   so   far   as   to  give   Major 

73 


FROM    HKHMN     TO    BAC.DAD 

S('lin(M(liT  a  sly  littlo  di^',  aiul  tlu'ii  iiislructod  him 
that  lie  sliouUl  hostir  himself  in  our  service.  Of 
a  su<l<ltMi  the  major  recalled  that  there  was  room 
in  the  Hotel  Stamhoul  on  the  waler-front.  We 
thanked  Merten  Pasha,  made  sure  that  our  escort 
of  soldiers  was  properly  instructed,  and  tlien  set 
out  again. 

The  hostlery  was  a  little  better  than  I  expected. 
When  we  arrived  it  was  dank  and  dark,  and  de- 
serted save  for  the  kamorotc — the  steward  who 
managed  the  place  since  his  master,  the  propri- 
etor, thought  it  best  to  get  out  of  the  way  of  the 
British  and  PVench  shells. 

But  the  kamorote  had  nothing  to  eat  in  the  house. 
l^(Mng  very  hungry,  I  set  out  to  find  a  meal,  de- 
spite the  protests  of  Swing,  who  has  tlie  stomach- 
destroying  habit  of  eating  preserved  food  when  he 
can  still  get  fresh  things. 

There  was  another  long  searcli.  But  in  the  en<l 
we  found  a  hole-in-the-wall  sort  of  eating-place, 
ke])t  open  for  the  benefit  of  the  camel-train  drivers. 
There  we  had  some  beans,  broiled  nuitton,  and,  to 
warm  us,  several  glasses  of  a  stuff  they  call  sharrap 
— alleged  to  be  wine. 

F.  Swing  and  I  are  together  in  the  same  room, 
together  with  some  whitewash  on  the  wall  and  floor, 
two  iron  bedsteads  furnished  with  thin  mattresses 
and  sheets,  pillows  and  blankets,  two  chairs,  a 
rickety  old  table,  a  candlestick  with  several  inches 
of  mutton  tallow  in  it,  and  our  soaked  baggage, 
which  will  require  days  to  dry.  The  shutters  of 
the  two  windows  are  closed,  and  the  rifts  between 
the    imperfectly    closing   slats   are   stuffed   full   of 

7t 


AT  THE  SHEI.L-RAKED   DARDANELI>ES 

paper,  an  anti-bombardment  measure  directed 
against  the  Allied  fleet. 

On  the  floor  is  a  mangal  with  a  charcoal  fire  in  it. 
The  pan  of  sheet  iron  on  legs  diffuses  a  little  heat 
and  much  smell  of  charcoal — oxide  gas.  The 
mangal  reminds  me  of  the  suicide-pan  of  Paris. 
Though  the  dear  hamorote  found  it  unnecessary  to 
warn  his  guests  that  they  might  be  dead  in  the 
morning,  I  will  take  that  mangal  out  of  the  room 
before  retiring.  Either  that  or  I  will  open  the 
transom  above  the  door,  seeing  that  the  heat  is 
needed  to  dry  our  things. 

Meanwhile,  F.  Swing  is  sleeping  the  sleep  of  the 
dead.  He  has  been  on  his  feet  since  nine  o'clock 
on  February  27th,  and  this  is  2  a.m.  of  March  1st. 

March  1st  {Evening). 

"When  I  got  up  this  noon  I  was  rather  surprised 
that  there  was  no  bombardment  in  progress. 

A  peep  out  of  the  window  showed  that  the  weather 
was  still  bad,  and  that  may  account  for  it. 

I  also  cogitated  a  bit  on  what  would  happ>en  if 
a  shell  hit  the  Hotel  Stamboul.  We  are  on  the 
third  floor,  and  if  the  shell  did  us  no  harm  personal- 
ly, the  fall  to  the  street  surely  would. 

But  we  might  fly  far  enough  to  land  in  the  water 
which  splashes  against  the  street  revet  fifteen  feet 
away  from  the  wall  of  the  hotel.  I  hope  the  water 
along  the  quay  is  deep  enough  for  a  dive  from 
such  a  height. 

In  the  afternoon  we  paid  our  respects  to  the 
official  world  here— Admiral-General  von  Usedom 
Pasha,   Merten   Pasha,   Colonel   Wassidlow,    Cap- 

75 


FROM    JiKRLIN    TO   HACDAl) 

lain  IltMsclu'l,  and  Prince  Ilonry  of  Rouss,  thirty- 
iiiiil  li  of  his  line. 

\Ve  also  met  a  fjood  many  Tnrkisli  officers. 
Bnt  Tnrkisli  nomenclature  is  still  a  little  too  nnicli 
for  me.  I  find  il  imiK)ssil)le  to  say  how  many  Ali, 
Ihrahim,  Ynssnf,  Djevad,  Djemal,  Kemal,  Kiamil, 
St'fiil,  J  ben,  ]5en,  Sen  and  otlier  hcijs  I  was  intro- 
tlnced  to. 

Even  INIajor  Sclmeider  was  agreeal>le  to-<lay.  A 
second  survey  of  iis  seems  to  have  melted  down  a 
little  of  the  ice  in  this  refrigerator.  So  long  as 
Schneider  is  around  Tchanak  Kaleli  the  summer 
cannot  be  hot. 

After  that  I  had  a  peep  at  our  surroimdings. 
They  are  not  uninteresting.  Tclianak  Kaleh  is  a 
nice  little  town  at  the  mouth  of  the  Rluxlios  River, 
wliicli  was  not  devoid  of  fame  even  in  antiquity. 

J\lost  of  the  houses  are  two  stories  higli  and  the 
up|X'r  story  is  invariably  of  wood.  That  will  help 
some  when  the  bombardment  stiirts  in  real  earnest. 
I  can  see  that  town  go  up  in  a  roaring  blaze  right 
now. 

Back  of  tlie  town  lie  gardens,  fields,  meadows, 
and  vineyards  that  must  be  good  to  look  upon  in 
the  summer.  I  also  saw  some  of  the  pits  from  which 
tlie  j)otters  of  "Pot  Castle"  take  the  clay  for  their 
wares.  Later  I  investigated  their  handiwork  and 
found  it  decidedly  mediocre. 

The  popidation  of  the  place  is  largely  Greek,  as 

one  might  exi)ect  of  towns  along  the  Hellesp>ont. 

There  are  also  a  good  many  Armenians,  and  some 

Kurds.     TIk'  Turkish  i>opulation  forms  aliout  1^2 

per  cent,  of  the  whole,  I  was  ini'ornied.    In  addition 

76 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED  DARDANELLES 

to  making  pots  and  clay  toys,  the  people  engage  in 
agriculture,  viticulture,  silk  production,  and  trade. 

The  better  classes  have  gone  to  other  parts. 
Their  houses  are  empty  and  serve  now  as  quarters 
for  many  of  the  Turkish  and  German  officers  active 
in  coast  defense.  Here,  as  elsewhere,  it  is  a  case 
of  the  devil  take  the  hindmost.  The  poor  are  still 
in  town,  and  there  is  no  telling  how  many  of  them 
will  perish  in  the  bombardment. 

To  the  south  of  the  town  lie  two  coast  batteries. 
Fort  Tchemenlik  and  Fort  Anadolu  Hamidieh.  The 
first  of  these  lies  to  the  west  of  Kaleh  Sultanieh, 
an  old  tower  and  battlement  erected  by  the  Turks 
in  1462.  The  "fort"  has  four  cannon  of  ancient 
vintage  and  large  bore — 35.5  centimeters. 

About  eight  hundred  yards  south  of  Tchemenlik 
lies  the  'piece  de  resistance  of  the  defense  of  the 
strait — Fort  Anadolu  Hamidieh.  It  is  a  more 
modern  affair  than  its  sister  battery.  The  fort, 
if  one  may  call  it  that,  has  twelve  emplacements. 
Four  of  the  guns,  35.5-cms.,  are  of  fairly  modern 
origin;  eight  others,  25.5-cms.,  are  of  about  the 
same  age. 

The  emplacements  are  protected  by  an  earth 
parapet  and  earth  traverses.  Of  turrets  and  such 
there  is  not  even  a  trace  to  be  seen.  That,  I  under- 
stand, is  the  state  of  affairs  generally  along  the 
Dardanelles,  with  the  exception  of  a  battery  on 
the  site  of  the  ancient  city  of  Dardanos — five 
15-cm.  pieces  in  half-turrets. 

I  cannot  say  that  the  equipment  of  the  Turks 
impressed  me  in  the  least.  The  guns  are  out- 
classed in  range  and  lack  many  of  the  contrivances 

77 


FROM    IU:i{l,l.\     TO    HAC.DAl) 

hmhI  nowiuhiys  lo  make  arlillory  fiiv  acciiralo  and 
ftFrclivo.  The  siglils  I  inspectod  arc  ])oor,  and  th(^ 
oloc'lric  conmninication  systoui  in  tlio  Uillories  and 
to  points  beyond  is  exposed  to  the  sliells,  being 
strung  on  poles  in  tlie  most  liapliazard  manner. 

How  tlie  Turks  and  Crermans  lioix'  to  keep  away, 
witli  guns  of  a  maximum  range  of  14,500  meters, 
slu])s  tliat  liave  a  maxinunn  range  of  at  least 
18,000  meters,  is  more  than  I  can  understand.  I 
discussed  that  with  some  of  the  officers,  and  found 
that  they  shared  my  view\s. 

They  have  good  reason  to  do  that  since  the  bat- 
teries at  the  entrance  to  the  strait,  Kiim  Kaleh 
and  Sid-il-Balir,  have  already  been  silenced  through 
tliis  discrepancy  in  range. 

I  was  told  that  tliese  batteries  were  lifted  out 
of  the  ground  by  the  Allied  ships,  and  that  to- 
day even  the  gims  in  tliem  are  mere  fragments. 
All  of  which  promises  to  make  my  stay  here  in- 
teresting. 

One  of  the  first  things  I  did  to-day  was  to  cast 
about  for  a  place  of  observation.  The  officers  said 
tliat  they  would  not  mind  having  my  friend  and 
myself  in  the  batteries  with  them  when  things  came 
to  happen.  That  was  very  kind  of  them,  to  be 
sure.  But  I  am  not  minded  to  be  blown  to  smither- 
eens just  yet.  I  am  an  observer  of  battles,  not  a 
fighter  of  them,  having  done  my  share  of  soldiering 
out  in  the  Transvfial  during  the  late  Boer  War. 

But  when  in  Rome  one  must  do  as  the  Romans 
do.  It  is  fatal  to  have  soldiers,  with  whom  one 
nnist  intimately  associate,  feel  that  one  is  not  will- 
ing to  tiike  a  chance.    I  felt  that  way  myself  when 

78 


AT  THE   SHELL-RAKED  DARDANELLES 

once  I  saw  a  crowd  of  war  correspondents  on  the 
veldt  show  the  white  feather. 

That  being  my  position,  I  selected  the  platform 
of  the  old  tower  of  Kaleh  Sultanieh  as  my  obser- 
vation post. 

Merten  Pasha,  who  has  such  matters  in  hand, 
consented  to  that,  but  only  after  he  had  pointed 
out  that  the  platform  of  the  tower  was  almost 
sure  to  get  some  of  the  shells  intended  for  Fort 
Tchemenlik,  the  battery  at  its  base. 

I  took  this  into  account,  but  discounted  it  again 
when  I  discovered  how  splendid  a  view  of  the 
coming  actions  we  could  get  from  the  roof  of  the 
majestic  stone  pile. 

There  is  a  signal-station  on  the  tower,  and  that 
also  helped  me  make  up  my  mind,  or  ours,  for 
Swing  has  much  to  say  in  such  things. 

F.  Swing  fell  in  love  with  that  tower  forthwith. 
In  a  single  day  it  has  grown  dear  to  his  heart.  He 
told  me  that  next  to  Neoplatonic  philosophy  and 
Wagner  opera  he  loved  old  walls  and  towers  and 
ruins  and  such.  Swing  dotes  on  romance.  The 
old  tower  veritably  breathes  romance. 

Within  its  sixteen-foot  walls  lie  many  dungeons. 
On  our  way  to  the  top  we  have  to  pass  through 
them. 

The  keeps  are  now  inhabited  by  bats  and  owls, 
and  that  makes  them  all  the  more  interesting  to 
my  friend.  He  believes  that  once  upon  a  time 
fair  maidens  and  their  lovers  were  imprisoned  in 
the  dungeons,  like  Aida  and  Rameses.  The  prox- 
imity of  the  ford  which  Leander  swam  to  see  his 
fair  Hero  is  beginning  to  tell  on  my  friend. 

6  79 


FROM    liKRLIN    TO    UACJDAl) 

^^illl  llir  malU'i'  of  st>K'cliii<;"  a,  i)hic'e  of  o])S(TVu- 
iioii  (lis|)()siMl  «.)f,  wo  adjouniod  to  a  Turkish  res- 
l^iuniut  near  llic  bazaar  and  ate  more  beans,  more 
broiled  mutton;  for  dessert  we  had  an  egg  and  some 
.slidrrap. 

AVhik'  tluis  oceupioti  Ihc  AUied  fleet  made  its 
debut  at  the  entrance  of  the  Dardanelles,  all  un- 
bi'known  to  us.  About  two  in  the  afternoon  the 
sky  had  eleared  a  little,  the  higli  wind  had  sub- 
sided, and  the  sea  was  tolerably  calm.  This  was 
an  invitation  for  the  Allied  ships  to  iK'comc  ag- 
gressive, i'hey  steamed  uj)  close  to  the  entrance, 
raked  the  remains  of  Kum  Kaleh  and  Sid-il-Balir 
once  more,  and  then  occupied  themselves  with 
something  or  other  near  the  village  of  Erenkoi 
and  on  a  hill  known  as  In  Tepeh. 

The  fire  was  too  far  off  to  rouse  our  interest, 
though  S\\ing  insisted  upon  going  to  the  tower 
platform. 

f'rom  up  there  the  ships  could  be  seen  and  the 
detonations  were  plain  enough. 

The  flashes  of  the  guns  and  exploding  shells  in- 
terested my  friend  very  much,  and  I  am  afraid 
that  a  great  deal  of  the  kindergarten  course  in 
artillery  I  gave  him  was  lost  on  him.  This  is  the 
first  time  that  my  friend  has  seen  such  things.  He 
seems  torn  between  the  curiosity  of  a  child  and  the 
dread  that  things  may  happen,  as  I  gathered  when 
I  gave  him  a  lurid  description  of  the  effect  of  an 
exploding  shell. 

At  4.30  the  Allied  ships  withdrew,  that  being  tea- 
time  for  the  British  jackies.  I  was  informed  that  the 
British  adhere  rigidly  to  their  gastronomic  habits. 

80 


AT  THE   SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

In  the  evening  there  was  much  display  of  search- 
lightery.  AlHes  and  Turks  ahke  engaged  in  it; 
the  former  anxious  to  gain  an  entrance  to  the 
Dardanelles,  and  the  latter  determined  to  keep  them 
out.  The  effort  reminded  me  of  two  Xantippes 
having  unfriendly  intercourse  over  the  back-yard 
fence. 

Still,  the  thing  was  beautiful.  We  watched  the 
entertainment  from  the  platform  of  Kaleh  Sul- 
tanieh,  while  the  owls  were  having  a  convention 
in  the  dungeon  under  us.  F.  Swing  found  the  scene 
indescribably  beautiful.  He  is  a  poet  and  does  not 
know  it. 

March  2d. 

The  big  event  seems  to  be  drawing  nearer. 
To-day,  for  the  first  time,  the  ships  of  the  Allies 
ventured  well  into  Erenkoi  Bay. 

But  the  weather  was  not  in  their  favor.  Visi- 
bility was  low.  A  forty-mile  gale  kept  the  white 
horses  racing  in  the  bay.  That  the  Allies  got  busy 
at  all  shows  that  they  really  mean  to  force  the 
Dardanelles.  Such  was  the  expert  opinion  of  men 
who  ought  to  know. 

A  little  before  noon  appeared  four  of  the  British 
line  ships,  members  of  the  Majestic,  Victoria,  and 
Agamemnon  classes,  accompanied  by  two  cruisers 
and  a  herd  of  smaller  fry.  After  a  while  the  cruisers 
and  most  of  the  small  vessels  withdrew,  and  the 
bombardment  began. 

The  four  ships  kept  constantly  in  motion  while 
they  were  firing.  This  is  done  in  order  that  the 
Turkish  gunners  may  not  have  too  good  a  target. 

81 


FR(nr    T^ERLIN   TO    HACDAl) 

Dt'scrihln^'  lar^e  circles  ahoul,  tlie  bay,  the  ships 
kopt  the  Turks  finessing  us  lo  how  they  could  be 
roac'luHl  l)y  tlio  sholls. 

Eacli  boat-length  of  progress  means  that  the  aim 
nnist  be  coni}>lete]y  overliauled,  and  when  the 
l>iece  is  fired  the  discovery  is  generally  made  that 
the  ship  is  nowhere  near  the  spot  where  the  great 
column  of  water  lifted  by  the  shell  rises  heavenward. 

The  British  sliips  were  concerned  with  some  ob- 
jects further  down  the  bay.  They  were  not  stingy 
with  their  ammunition.  The  same  can  be  said  of 
the  Turkish  howitzers  on  the  Anatolian  and  Gal- 
lipoli  hills.  Things  became  rather  hot  in  the  lower 
stretch  of  the  bay,  and  then  for  reasons  not  known 
to  me  the  smaller  of  the  four  British  ships  withdrew 
and  disappeared  l^ehind  the  cape  of  Eski-Hissarlik. 

With  the  small  ship  out  of  the  way,  the  British 
began  a  more  serious  bombardment,  the  battery 
at  Dardanos,  that  on  In  Tepeh,  and  some  howitzer 
emplacements  getting  all  the  attention. 

The  British  gunners  were  working  hard.  Great 
tongues  of  yellow  fire  leaped  from  the  turrets  of 
the  three  ships.  Huge  clouds  of  reddish  smoke 
seemed  to  spring  out  of  nothing  in  the  next  in- 
stant, and  seconds  later  a  great  geyser  of  earth 
and  powder  fumes  would  break  into  view  some- 
where on  the  Anatolian  shore. 

Fort  Dardanos  especially  was  severely  punished, 
as  the  British  must  have  thought.  But  that  was  a 
fallacy.  From  the  tower  I  could  see  quite  plainly 
that  much  of  the  British  fire  was  far  too  high.  It 
did  not  even  hit  on  the  venerable  old  rubbish-heap 
in  which  one  of  the  Trojan  cities  still  lies  buried. 

82 


AT  THE   SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

The  majority  of  the  shells  sailed  into  the  fields 
east  of  the  battery  and  did  no  damage  whatsoever. 

The  fire  of  the  ships  was  very  poor.  I  concluded 
that  the  high  sea  was  responsible  for  that.  After 
two  hours'  exercise  the  British  ships  withdrew. 

Toward  the  last  the  Turks  did  not  fire  a  single 
shell.  I  have  not  yet  located  all  of  their  batteries, 
so  that  I  cannot  say  whether  it  was  a  considera- 
tion of  range  or  the  desire  to  save  ammunition 
that  kept  them  quiet. 

As  the  British  ships  neared  the  entrance  to  the 
strait  some  of  the  Turkish  howitzers  near  Atchi 
Baba  hill  showed  signs  of  life.  There  were  three 
hits.  But  the  British  did  not  seem  to  mind  this 
very  much.  After  all,  the  howitzer  shell  is  a  puny 
affair  so  long  as  it  meets  armor.  The  case  is  rather 
different  when  it  hits  an  unprotected  deck. 

With  the  day's  labor  done,  Swing  and  I  had  the 
usual  quota  and  bill  of  "eats."  We  had  more 
beans,  more  shish-kebah  and  sharrap,  and  Swing 
nearly  lost  his  teeth  in  a  piece  of  sweets. 

They  have  a  habit  here  of  sweetening  honey 
with  sugar.  When  that  has  been  done,  the  mass 
is  poured  over  a  sort  of  pie-crust.  Swing  thought 
he  would  try  a  piece  of  this.  He  implanted  his 
incisors  firmly  for  the  purpose  of  biting  off  a  chunk. 

That  is  as  far  as  he  got.  The  lower  teeth  went 
through  the  crust  easily  enough,  and  met  the  teeth 
from  above  half -ways.  Dilemma!  There  sat  my 
friend  with  his  jaws  glued  together. 

I  could  read  in  his  eyes,  and  see  by  the  working 
of  his  cheek  muscles,  that  he  wished  to  free  'him- 
self of  this  incubus. 

83 


FROM   BERLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

"Go  slow!"  I  said,  fearing  Ilia  I  my  friend  would 
Itar  out  his  Icctii  hy  the  roots.  "'J'hat  is  usually 
done  after  f;as  has  l)een  administered." 

Swing  is  ratluT  ready  with  his  words.  But  on 
this  occasion  I  had  tlie  l)est  of  liim.  Not  that 
S^^^ng  chose  to  remain  silent.  Though  most  eflFec- 
ti^•i'l^'  gagged,  lie  tried  to  si)eak,  but  only  inarticu- 
late soimds  came. 

I  suggested  a  sii>  of  water.  My  friend  looked  at 
me  in  disilain.  How  could  a  man  drink  water 
when  his  teeth  were  cemented  together!  So  I 
showed  Swing  how  it  could  be  done. 

Well,  after  a  while  my  friend  w^as  himself  again. 

I  may  mention  here  that  the  pastry  in  question 
is  known  as  hehva,  sl  name  it  may  get  from  the 
fact  that  help  is  necessary  wdien  the  iminitiated 
try  it  for  the  first  time,  though  F.  Swing  connected 
the  name  to  another  root — one  which  identifies 
the  abode  of  His  Satanic  Majesty. 

Last  night,  by  the  way,  we  had  the  first  night 
engagement  here.  Some  Allied  mine-sweepers  vent- 
ured into  the  bay,  w'ere  discovered,  and  were  taken 
under  fire  by  the '  batteries  of  field-artillery  the 
Turks  have  brought  here  for  that  purpose. 

The  mine-sweepers  were  in  very  close  before 
they  were  seen. 

Friend  Swing  had  given  me  a  lecture  on  the 
wisdom  of  Alexandria,  while  the  two  of  us  quaffed 
a  bottle  of  nepenthe — some  special  sharrap  I  have 
discovered. 

I  am  a  good  buscalero.  I  use  the  Mexican  word 
for  the  designation,  because  it  was  in  that  country 
that  I  learned  to  always  find  what  I  wanted. 

84 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

At  eleven  the  wisdom  and  the  nepenthe  had  both 
run  dry  and  so  we  turned  in. 

A  sensation  of  great  noise  woke  me  some  three 
hours  later.  I  was  still  struggling  for  wakefulness 
when  the  racket  came  again. 

Whommmmp! — zow!  and  close  at  hand,  too! 

"Night  bombardment!"  shouted  F.  Swing  as  he 
suddenly  reached  a  sitting  position  in  bed.  "Get 
up!  get  up!" 

Some  of  the  nearby  field-pieces  began  to  fire, 
barking  like  angry  dogs,  and  making  the  window- 
panes  rattle.  There  could  be  no  doubt,  though, 
that  the  two  shells  which  had  exploded  near  us 
came  from  some  Allied  ships.  I  concluded  that  the 
hen  of  the  mine-sweeping  flock,  a  cruiser,  had  been 
rude  enough  to  take  a  pop  at  us  in  the  wee,  small 
hours  of  the  morning. 

The  racket  increased.  F.  Swing  and  I  slipped 
into  some  of  our  clothing  and  rushed  down-stairs. 

It  was  our  intention  to  get  to  our  post  of  obser- 
vation, the  old  tower.  But  that  was  a  good  five 
minutes'  run  away,  and  before  we  had  reached  the 
middle  of  the  barrack-yard  north  of  Fort  Tchemen- 
lik  the  night  engagement  ceased  suddenly. 

There  is  an  old  breakwater  at  the  end  of  the 
yard.  Thither  we  rushed  to  see  what  the  cause 
of  the  trouble  could  be. 

But  it  was  too  dark. 

The  only  thing  I  saw,  by  the  light  of  a  Turkish 
projector,  was  a  scout-boat  making  for  the  entrance 
as  fast  as  steam  could  push  her.  The  Turkish 
search-lights  were  lighting  up  beautifully  her  hull 
and  heels   so  that  some  battery  along  the  strait 

85 


FROM  in-:]n.i\  to  i?a(;i)ai) 

niijj:lit  tnki*  a  sliol  a  I  Iicr.  Many  ossayed  llio  trial. 
All  of  tlioni  failt'd.  Tiie  many  water  columns  raised 
by  the  shells  looked  like  great  and  wonderful  ])earls 
in  the  light  of  the  |)i'ojeetors. 

At  any  rate,  we  had  seen  something. 

F,  Swing  and  I  stayed  at  the  old  sea-wall  until 
the  projectors  of  the  Tui-ks  died  out  like  sparks 
in  a  heap  of  ashes.  We  hung  on  for  cjuite  a  bit 
even  after  that,  but  the  cold  got  the  best  of  us  in 
the  end. 

March  4th. 

The  Allied  fleet  fooled  about  a  bit  outside  the 
strait  yesterday,  but  came  into  Erenkoi  again  this 
noon. 

There  were  five  line  ships  to-day.  For  a  while 
they  pelted  away  at  something  on  some  hillside 
above  Erenkoi,  the  ancient  Rhoiteion.  What  the 
British  gunners  thought  they  saw  there  is  a  little 
beyond  me. 

]\Iy  field-glass  is  a  very  good  one,  but  ply  it  as  I 
might  I  could  not  see  a  thing  at  the  spot  the  British 
ships  had  under  fire. 

The  Turks  have  no  battery  there,  that  I  know, 
except  it  be  a  decoy  arrangement — stovepipes  and 
water-mains  in  which  some  enterprising  asker  sets 
off  several  pounds  of  black  powder  now  and  then, 
to  make  the  Allies  believe  that  the  shells  that  are 
falling  near  them  do  not  come  from  some  nest  of 
howitzers  in  the  hills  above  the  Shavan  Dereh.  I 
can  see  that  battery  from  the  tower,  but  the  men 
on  the  ships  in  the  bay  cannot. 

The  battery  is  one  of  many  which  the  Germans 


AT  THE   SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

have  stationed  in  the  hills  of  GalHpoH.  It  fires 
indirectly  and  cannot  be  seen  from  below. 

I  am  a  little  surprised,  though,  that  the  British, 
knowing  that  the  Tiu^ks  have  some  of  Germany's 
best  artillery  and  coast-defense  experts  in  their 
service,  should  assume  that  there  was  so  much  as 
a  single  gun  on  the  spot  they  kept  under  fu'e. 

At  2.15  in  the  afternoon  the  activity  of  the  Allies' 
ships  increased.  Some  of  the  ships  once  more  raked 
the  ruins  of  Kum  Kaleh,  and  one  of  them,  a  member 
of  the  Majestic  class,  took  under  vicious  fire  some- 
thing near  the  mouth  of  the  Mendereh  River.  What 
it  was  I  don't  know.  But  there  was  a  certain  eager- 
ness in  the  tempo  of  the  fu-e  that  causes  me  to  be- 
lieve that  this  time  the  ship  had  a  real  target. 

It  may  have  been  the  aftermath  of  the  affair 
which  occurred  at  Kum  Kaleh,  day  before  yester- 
day. The  Allies  landed  a  small  party  for  the  pur- 
pose of  erasing  Kum  Kaleh  entirely  with  dynamite. 

But  the  Turks  had  been  looking  for  that  and 
had  stationed  some  infantry  in  the  wi-eckage  of 
the  batteries.  When  the  British  marines  came 
ashore  they  were  set  upon  and  cut  to  pieces. 

An  Anatolian  onbashi  by  name  of  Mustapha 
earned  himself  the  "Iron  Crescent,"  companion 
piece  to  the  "Iron  Cross,"  in  that  little  affair.  He 
is  said  to  have  killed  ever  so  many  men  with  liis 
hands  and  a  rock. 

Well,  maybe  he  did. 

March  5th. 

War  drew  appreciably  closer  to-day.  Some  of  it 
came  in  the  form  of  direct  fire  from  the  Bay  of 

87 


FROM    HERLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

Ercnkoi,  and  moiv  from  across  I  lie  iMMiinsuIa  of 
Gallipoli.  The  Allies  sUiiioiied  a  few  of  their  line 
ships  and  cruisers  in  the  /E^^'an,  ofi'  Aribnrnu,  and 
took  un(U>r  fire  from  there  the  batteries  of  Kilid-il- 
Rahr,  across  the  strait  from  us. 

It  was  a  warm  day  in  many  respects.  The 
sky  was  blue,  tlie  sun  warm,  the  sea  calm,  and 
visibilitN'  very  hi^h.  That  meant  that  tlie  Allied 
ships  had  a  good  day  for  their  work. 

F,  Swing  and  I  were  on  tlie  ])latform  of  the  tower, 
getting  fully,  or  rather  more  fully,  acquainted  with 
one  Fuad  Rechad  Bey  Effendi,  an  Ottoman  stu- 
dent officer  who  has  been  detailed  to  be  of  assist- 
ance to  us. 

The  Turks  are  very  obliging  to  their  two  Amer- 
ican harh  mughhirs,  as  we  are  called  in  red  Arabic 
letters  on  the  white  bands  on  our  right  sleeves. 
So  far  they  have  not  turned  down  a  single  request 
of  ours.  But  then  tlie  word  of  Enver  Pasha  goes 
hereabout  and  everybody  knows  that  we  are  under 
Ottoman  military  law. 

Fuad  Rechad  Bey  was  attached  to  us  to  save 
us  annoyance  at  the  hands  of  zealous  Turkish 
officers  and  soldiers  who  do  not  know  us  as  yet. 

Fuad  is  a  droll  youngster.  Sometime  he  hopes 
to  become  a  coast-artillery  officer.  Right  now  he 
belongs  to  nothing  in  particular  so  far  as  I  can 
see.  He  speaks  French  well  and  English  not  so 
well.     Paris  he  knows  like  a  book. 

When  the  war  broke  out  he  was  still  in  the  French 
capital,  but  being  an  ardent  patriot,  he  made  good 
his  escape  from  gai  Paris.  He  reached  Switzer- 
land  in  quite  a  roundabout  way,  and  now  hopes 

88 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED  DARDANELLES 

that  he  will  be  spared  to  take  care  of  his  sister 
Lahika  and  his  mother. 

Inshallahl 

The  three  of  us  were  discussing  nothing  in  par- 
ticular on  the  roof  of  the  kulle  Kaleh  Sultanieh, 
when,  whommmp! 

The  detonation  was  so  close  by  that  we  scrambled 
to  our  feet  in  a  hurry — we  had  been  sitting  behind 
the  old  parapet,  smoking. 

I  had  caught  the  direction  from  which  the  crash 
came,  and,  looking  across  the  strait  toward  Kilid- 
il-Bahr,  I  saw  a  great  cloud  of  smoke  drift  lazily 
in  the  sunny  morning  air. 

F.  Swing,  true  to  his  habit  of  looking  immediately 
for  the  cause  of  things,  just  then  mentioned  that 
there  were  three  ships  in  Erenkoi  Bay.  With 
"Weyer"  and  glass  I  established  that  two  of  them 
belonged  to  the  Victoria  and  one  to  the  Agamemnon 
type.  I  also  saw  that  they  were  again  firing  their 
forward  turret  pieces. 

Kilid-il-Bahr,  exactly  1,400  yards  away  from  us, 
got  the  benefit  of  that  salvo.  I  had  my  glass  on 
the  batteries  there  when  the  British  shells  came. 

They  were  far  too  high,  except  one  of  them.  It 
landed  in  a  garden  to  the  rear  of  Rumeli  Medjidieh 
battery  and  caused  the  gunners  in  that  emplace- 
ment to  show  real  signs  of  life.  The  men  in  brown 
scampered  for  cover  in  all  directions.  They  had 
reached  it  before  the  next  salvo  arrived. 

Thirty  shells  were  planted  in  the  KiHd-il-Bahi 
works.  Nine  of  them  were  reasonably  close.  None 
of  them  hit  the  works  themselves. 

After  this  the  British  ships  took  under  fire  again 

89 


FROM  iu:klin   ro  |{A(;i).vi) 

tho  l)allrrit's  of  Dardanos  and  Eroukoi — Llicir 
wliippiiif^  l)ovs  and  hcfc.t  not'rcs. 

'\l\vvv  was  iH)  Idling  wIumi  llic  l^rilisli  sliips  mi<^lit 
try  lluMr  luck  on  Anadolu  llaniidioh  and  Tclicni- 
onlik.  In  iliat  case  it  might  be  best  not  to  be  on 
the  plat  form  of  llic  lower,  nor  even  in  the  town 
itself.  A  shell  intended  for  llaniitlieh,  but  aimed 
too  high,  was  bound  to  get  us;  a  shell  for  Tchemen- 
lik,  ainunl  a  111  tie  to  the  right,  would  have  the  same 
eti'eet. 

The  advisability  of  undertaking  a  dignified,  albeit 
diligent,  retreat  was  considered.  Swing  thought 
that  soon  it  might  be  too  late.  He  spoke  with  some 
emotion  every  time  the  line  ships  in  the  bay  fired. 

Fuad  struggled  manfully  to  be  im])artial.  WTien 
Swing  suggested  that  he  should  side  against  me, 
the  student  officer  said  that  he  could  not  do  that, 
because  as  our  adjutant  he  had  no  vote. 

I  i)ersiiaded  my  friend  that  as  yet  there  was 
really  nothing  to  fear.  It  was  against  all  law  of 
prol)a1)ility  that  the  first  shell  of  Llie  Allied  ships 
would  hit  so  comparatively  small  a  target  as  the 
platform  of  the  tower.  We  could  still  retreat  when 
it  becuime  certain  that  the  batteries  near  us  were 
to  be  lx)mbarded. 

Meanwhile  I  learned  that  other  guns  than  those 
on  the  ships  in  the  bay  were  Ix'laboring  the  works 
at  Kilid-il-Bahr.  I  saw  shells  exi)lode  in  the  works 
that  did  not  come  from  the  bay. 

A  shell  from  where  the  Allied  ships  were  would 
require  al>out  twenty-eight  seconds  to  land  in  Kilid- 
il-Bahr,  as  I  had  established  by  count.  Often 
these  shells  exploded  near  Rumeli  INIedjidieh  within 

90 


AT  THE   SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

five  seconds  after  I  had  seen  the  flashes  out  on  the 
bay;  again  it  would  require  no  more  than  one 
second. 

That  was  odd  enough.  There  was  only  one 
explanation,  however.  The  shells  that  were  falling 
into  Kilid-il-Bahr  were  coming  from  some  other 
part.  I  surmised  that  the  Allies  had  ships  in  the 
iEgean,  and  later  I  learned  that  such  was  indeed 
the  case. 

At  about  3.45  an  Allied  hydroplane  hove  into 
view  above  Kilid-il-Bahr.  The  observer  was  to 
report  on  the  damage  done.  What  he  reported 
I  don't  know,  of  course.  I  hope  he  told  the  truth 
— that  the  effect  so  far  had  been  nil,  as  it  was. 

He  had  not  been  gone  very  long  before  the  bom- 
bardment took  on  a  new  spurt.  Soon  it  reached  its 
maximum  intensity.  Crash  fell  upon  crash.  Be- 
fore long  Kilid-il-Bahr,  batteries  and  town  alike, 
were  enveloped  in  a  dense  cloud  of  powder  fumes, 
which  my  field-glasses  could  not  penetrate. 

The  explosions  which  flared  in  the  cloud,  like 
lightning,  showed  that  the  Allies  had  made  up 
their  minds  to  put  Kilid-il-Bahr  out  of  the  running. 
A  little  later,  when  a  fire  began  to  show  tlu-ough 
the  fumes,  it  seemed  that  this  plan  was  making 
good  headway. 

It  was  now  impossible  to  say  what  was  the  effect 
of  the  shells  in  the  batteries  across  the  narrow  strait 
from  us.  The  entire  site  lay  under  a  thick  bank 
of  vapors.  There  was  no  breeze  to  carry  off  the 
fumes  and  smoke. 

The  many  earth  columns  that  rose,  the  vivid 
flashes    of    the    explosions,    and    the   ever-gaining 

91 


FRO^NI   BERLIN    lO   BAGDAD 

blazo  iiuulr  ;in  impivssivr  piclniv.  Fund  Bey  was 
suro  tliiit  no  stoiio  was  loll  on  tx)p  of  iinolhor  in 
KiIi(l-il-Balir.  I  toki  liim  thai  ho  was  vory  much 
niislaki'ii.  Onco  I  got  my  vision  into  a  rii't  of  tlie 
va|K)r  iKink.  I  caught  llio  roar  of  the  Modjidieh 
oniplacomont.     It  was  intact,  but  deserted  of  man. 

The  siiii)s  out  in  the  Bay  of  P^ronkoi  were  once 
more  concentrating  their  fire  u]>on  the  Kilid-il- 
Bahr  works.  They  were  ])umping  sliolls  at  a  rate 
that  was  imjwsing. 

'i'lio  honibardment  of  the  works  was  at  its  full 
height  when  something  sailed  over  us  with  the 
wail  of  a  lost  soul.  The  sound  was  not  pleasant. 
We  ducked  behind  the  parapet. 

Swing  and  Fuad  agreed  that  it  was  a  shell. 
Perhai>s  it  w^as.  To  me  it  did  not  make  the  sound 
of  a  shell.  Then,  plupj)!  somewhere.  No  explo- 
sion! 

Later  I  discovered  that  the  thing  was  the  huge 
fragment  of  a  38.1-cms.  shell.  It  had  struck  the 
front  of  the  bazaar  building  and  had  crushed  it 
like  an  egg-shell. 

In  the  Tchemenlik  battery  at  our  feet  men  stood 
by  their  guns.  The  officers  w^ere  at  their  posts; 
pieces  were  loaded.  A  chaplain  (hodja)  was  cir- 
culating among  the  men  and  saying  words  of  en- 
couragement. Now  and  then  he  would  spread  his 
prayer-rug,  kneel  on  it,  salaam  innumerable  times, 
and  invoke  the  blessing  of  Allah. 

The  tall,  gaunt  form  in  brown  humus,  scarlet 
sash,  and  green  turban  did  his  best  to  be  a  comfort 
to  the  gunners.  He  addressed  one  after  the  other, 
and  patted  some  of  them  on  the  shoulder.     Maybe 

92 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED  DARDANELLES 

he  was  picking  out  for  this  special  attention  those 
who  seemed  to  need  it. 

Verily,  death  was  not  far  off-  Across  the  strait, 
1,400  yards  away,  it  was  reaping  its  harvest, 
maybe,  and  every  moment  the  Allied  gunners 
might  shift  their  aim  a  bit,  with  dire  results  to 
Tchemenlik.  A  single  good  hit  might  snuff  out 
scores  of  lives  in  that  cramped  emplacement  at 
the  foot  of  the  tower. 

But  at  4.25  the  Allies  retired — tea-time,  as  the 
Turks  put  it. 

I  was  anxious  to  know  what  effect  the  bombard- 
ment had  on  the  population  of  Tchanak  Kaleh. 
But  in  the  East  they  have  splendid  nerves.  There 
had  been  no  panic  even  after  the  bazaar  had  been 
hit.  The  water-front  throughout  the  day  had  been 
crowded  with  curious  men,  women,  and  children. 

After  a  bite  to  eat,  F.  Swing,  Fuad,  and  I  paid 
a  visit  to  Fort  Anadolu  Hamidieh,  to  ascertain, 
if  possible,  the  sum  total  of  the  day's  event.  The 
Turkish  losses  in  men  and  munitions  were  slight, 
I  was  informed.  In  the  opinion  of  the  oflBcers 
nothing  had  transpired  during  the  day  to  cause 
them  uneasiness. 

The  Allied  ships  had  kept  up  their  fire  diligently, 
but  were  standing  well  out  of  range  of  the  Turkish 
guns,  especially  those  in  Hamidieh.  They  had 
also  betrayed  a  great  respect  for  the  mine-fields 
in  the  Dardanelles.  Such  was  the  consensus  of 
opinions.  I  tried  to  get  the  conversation  directed 
upon  the  question  of  ammunition.  In  that  I 
failed.  Nobody  deigned  to  notice  my  intimations. 
Yet  I  know  that  this  is  where  the  shoe  pinches. 

93 


FROM    MERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

The  ConiKin  artillery  experts  held  the  view  t.lwil, 
I  he  aininuniliou  used  by  the  Allies  was  not  suited 
lor  the  work  in  hand.  The  shells  were  made  to 
do  their  best  in  arnior-penetnilion. 

13 u I  there  is  no  armor  worth  mention  along  the 
Dardanelles.  The  ])araj)ets  and  traverses  are  of 
saml.  The  shells  of  the  Allies  do  not  go  far  in  that. 
Eaeh  little  grain  acts  as  a  brake  u]>on  the  side  of 
tlie  i>rojeelile,  whose  progress  is  in  that  manner 
quiekly  cheeked. 

^^'llen  tlie  retarded  action  fuse  finally  springs  the 
fulminating  charge  the  shell  has  not  i)enetrat,ed 
deej)  enough  to  have  the  ex])losion  do  much  dam- 
age. Shells  that  would  go  through  steel  armor  as 
through  a  piece  of  cheese  are  nearly  worthless 
against  the  sand  protecting  the  emplacements. 

When  we  got  to  the  Hotel  Stamboul  its  poor 
kamurote  was  on  the  verge  of  distraction.  He  is  a 
Levantine  and  not  used  to  battle.  From  the  roof 
of  the  building  he  had  seen  the  bombardment  of 
Kilid-il-Bahr,  and  now  he  was  certain  that  in  the 
morning  it  would  be  the  turn  of  Tchanak  Kaleh. 
What  had  he  better  do  in  that  case?  Would  we 
not  move  out  and  persuade  two  other  guests  to 
do  likewise,  in  which  case  he  could  close  up  the 
hotel  and  go  into  the  hills  back  of  the  town.'' 

We  told  him  that  while  we  were  people  willing 
to  oblige  others,  we  could  not  go  to  that  extreme. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  could  leave  the  hotel  in 
our  charge.  But  as  the  man  looked  into  the  great 
blaze  across  the  strait  the  thought  came  to  his 
mind  that  in  his  absence  the  han  in  his  care  might 
burn  down.    He  is  a  conscientious  being,  I  will  say. 

<J4 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED  DARDANELLES 

After  that  we  went  to  our  room,  I  to  dash  off 
some  cable  despatches,  Swing  to  write  something 
for  the  maiL  When  other  people  rest  from  battle 
we  have  to  sit  down  and  describe  it,  so  that  the 
good  people  at  home  may  have  it  at  the  expendi- 
ture of  two  cents  with  their  breakfast  and  with- 
out giving  us  pMDor  devils  so  much  as  a  thought. 

March  6th. 

Bombardment  from  9.30  to  4.30 — breakfast  to 
tea,  with  a  short  pause  for  hmch. 

Four  British  vessels  of  pre-dreadnaught  types 
steamed  boldly  into  Erenkoi  Bay,  milled  for  posi- 
tion, and  took  under  desultory  fire  the  batteries 
of  Erenkoi,  Dardanos,  and  those  at  Kilid-il-Bahr. 
The  effect  of  the  bombardment  was  nil  again. 

In  the  afternoon  we  had  the  most  unusual,  in- 
deed unique,  spectacle  of  seeing  battle-ships  bom- 
bard one  another  by  indirect  aim. 

During  the  night  the  Turks  had  brought  into 
the  Central  Strait  the  line  ships  Haiireddin  Bar- 
baruss  and  Torgut  Reiss.  The  purpose  of  this 
move  was  to  make  it  interesting  for  the  Allied 
line  ships  which  have  been  bombarding  the  works 
at  Kilid-il-Bahr  from  across  the  peninsula.  It  is 
reported  that  one  of  the  line  ships,  allegedly  the 
Bouvet,  was  hit. 

Fort  Anadolu  Hamidieh  drew  fire  to-day  for  the 

first  time.     We  were  on  the  tower  platform  at  the 

time.     Half  a  dozen  shells  buried  themselves  in 

the  yard   of   the   battery.     The  British   ships   in 

Erenkoi  Bay  let  it  go  at  that. 

The  shells  fell  not  more  than  eight  hundred  yards 
7  95 


FROM    BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

away  froin  us,  aiul  sonio  ol'  lIuMr  s])linUTS  hit  the 
wall  and  i>lall\)nii  of  I  ho  vriK'rahlr  i)il<'  on  which 
we  roosl  in  the  day.  We  put  up  a  brave  front  to 
the  si^mal-meii  who  share  the  platform  witli  us, 
but  were  uol  sorry  when  the  British  withdrew. 

I  have  the  impression  that  the  British  sent  the 
shells  into  Haniidieh  for  the  sole  purpose  of  serv- 
ing sarcastic  notice  that  in  the  near  future  there 
would  be  more  where  those  came  from. 

Well,  tlie  gi-eat  event  cannot  be  far  off.  I  under- 
stand that  the  Allied  fleet  is  growing  with  each  day. 
The  German  aviators  in  the  Ottoman  service  go 
nightly  on  patrol  to  Tenedos,  Imbros,  and  Leni- 
nos.  Their  reports  are  not  very  encouraging  to  the 
men  in  charge  of  the  defense  of  the  Dardanelles 
and  the  city  that  lies  beyond  them. 

March  7th. 

To-day's    bombardment   lasted   from    12.15    to 

4.10  P.M. 

It  was  a  short  session,  but  a  hot  one. 

P'ive  ships  participated:  One  Lord  Nelson  type, 
two  Agamemnons,  and  two  French  line  ships,  one 
of  them  of  the  Gaulois  class,  the  other  unidentified 
for  tlie  reason  that  part  of  her  superstructure  has 
been  disguised  in  some  manner — canvas,  I  suppose. 

The  Allies  took  under  fire  Erenkoi,  Dardanos, 
Rumeli  Medjidieh,  and  Anadolu  Hamidieh. 

I  must  record  that  tlie  fire  of  the  Allied  ships 
is  imiH'oving.  iVIuch  damage  would  have  been 
done  the  Turkish  emplacements  to-day  were  it 
not  that  all  of  them  lie  on  *'soft"  land— meadow 
soil  of  a  light,  loamy  character. 

9G 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

From  LIO  to  2.80  the  cannonade  was  terrific. 
Shot  followed  shot.  The  air  was  rent  with  the 
roar  of  explosions,  echoing  and  reverberating  from 
the  steep  hills  of  Gallipoli  to  the  mountains  of 
Anatolia.  I  wonder  if  the  spirits  of  Agamemnon 
and  Priam  attended.?  If  they  did  they  will  have 
some  notion  as  to  what  progress  has  been  made 
since  their  nearby  Troy  fell. 

Some  shells  fell  close  to  Troy  to-day.  Were  I 
facetious  enough  I  could  have  written  a  lead  for 
my  despatch  that  to-day  Troy  was  bombarded. 
But  this  is  serious  business  and  no  occasion  for 
flippanc3\ 

The  Turks  husbanded  well  their  ammunition. 
They  have  none  too  much  of  it.  Fort  Anadolu 
Hamidieh  loosed  sixteen  large  armor-piercing  shells. 
Three  hits  were  registered  by  the  Turks  as  the 
day's  total.  One  of  the  British  ships  withdrew 
with  a  list  to  port,  after  a  large  sheaf  of  red  sparks 
had  announced  that  the  steel  of  shell  had  struck 
the  steel  of  armor. 

We  were  glad  when  the  sun  set — in  an  angry 
red — behind  Cape  Eski-Hissarlik. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  we  are  living  here  on  a 
volcano.  The  Turks  and  Germans  are  beginning 
to  realize  the  situation,  and  it  is  worrying  them. 
The  kaimmakam,  incidentally,  has  ordered  the 
population  of  Tchanak  Kaleh  to  move  on,  stating 
that  those  who  remain  must  do  so  with  the  knowl- 
edge that  the  town  may  be  bombarded  any  day. 

Well,  we  had  to  abandon  the  old  tower;  much 
as  we  love  its  old  walls  and  sunny  parapet.  The 
signal-men  have  it  all  to  themselves  now.     They 

97 


FROM    RKRLIN  TO   BAGDAD 

are  sorry.  Wc  were  pjood  company,  llicy  said. 
And  woll  tlu'y  may  say  lliat,  for  many  are  the 
t'xira,  premiere,  and  deuxiane  cigarettes  they  have 
smoked  with  us.    It  was  a  treat  to  them. 

Tlie  iK)or  devils  smoke  si'xihnes. 

Admiral-General  Merten  Pasha  is  to  some  extent 
responsible  for  our  change  of  station.  He  thought 
we  ought  not  to  go  to  the  tower  any  more. 

"You  know  what  will  happen  when  a  38.1-er 
gets  it,"  he  said.  "It  '11  crumble  into  crushed  rock. 
Let  me  warn  you!" 

'J'hus  disi)ossessed,  we  hunted  for  another  point 
of  vantage  to-day,  but  found  none.  The  result  of 
our  hunt  was  that  we  were  caught  on  the  bare  beach 
between  Forts  Tchemenlik  and  Anadolu  Hamidieh 
(luring  the  hottest  part  of  the  bombardment. 

We  had  followed  the  bombardment  from  the 
l)each  when  suddenly  the  Allied  ships  took  the  two 
forts  named  under  fire,  without  so  much  as  "by  your 
leave."  In  a  second  our  retreat  was  cut  off.  With 
the  strait  before  us,  the  Rhodios  River  in  our  rear, 
and  the  Allied  fire  in  our  flanks,  we  could  do  noth- 
ing but  crawl  behind  a  small  heap  of  sand. 

It  was  a  very  ticklish  situation  indeed.  The 
Allied  shells  were  thick  and  fast,  going  over  us  with 
the  noise  of  a  thousand  w^heels  in  a  tunnel  full  of 
bridges. 

In  Anadolu  Hamidieh,  on  our  left  the  roof  of 
the  barracks  had  l>een  long  a  thing  of  memory 
and  the  shells  of  the  Allies  were  turning  the  bar- 
rack-yard upside  down.  In  Tchemenlik  things  were 
no  Ix'tter. 

But  there  was  enough  ammunition  coming  the 

08 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED  DARDANELLES 

Turks'  way  that  some  of  it  spilled  beyond  the  em- 
placements. The  field  back  of  us  was  for  quite  a 
while  a  favorite  spot  for  the  explosions,  and  things 
grew  decidedly  worse  when  all  the  short  shells  in- 
tended for  Tchemenlik  struck  on  the  beach.  Each 
moment  one  of  them  might  strike  into  that  little 
heap  of  sand  and  send  us  to  kingdom  come. 

My  poor  friends  felt  that  keenly.  Swing  had  never 
been  under  artillery  fire  in  just  that  manner  be- 
fore, and  Fuad  was  by  no  means  enthusiastic. 
He  thought  that  before  a  man  could  be  a  good  coast- 
artillery  officer  he  had  much  to  learn.  I  agreed 
with  him. 

Meanwhile  the  Turks  were  not  firing  a  shot. 
The  Allied  ships  were  out  of  range  and  stayed  out 
persistently.  I  hoped  that  it  would  be  tea-time 
soon. 

But  it  seemed  as  if  the  Allied  commander  had 
made  up  his  mind  to  at  least  put  a  bad  dent  in 
the  Dardanelles  coast-defense  system  to-day.  He 
was  most  persistent.    His  ships  came  in  closer. 

Our  sand-heap  was  not  far  from  the  Hamidieh 
battery,  on  which  I  had  my  field-glasses  all  the 
time.     I  felt  that  something  would  happen  there 
before  long. 
It  did  happen. 

A  leather-lunged  German  officer  shouted  some- 
thing through  a  megaphone.  Men  began  to  tumble 
out  of  the  casemates.  I  knew  what  that  meant; 
my  heart  went  into  my  boots.  If  Hamidieh  replied 
to  the  fire  there  was  bound  to  be  more  in  return, 
and  we  would  get  our  share  of  that. 

I   recognized   the   officer   as   Captain   Herschel. 

99 


FROM    liERl>lN    lO   HACiDAD 

\\\\vn  nv\[  1  lioaixl  llie  slaccalo  nip  and  snap  of 
liis  ^nx'iil  voicr  lio  was  ^''^•11^'  ^'^^^  range — 1,'?,400 
niclors.  ll  sconiccl  that  he  had  his  eye  on  a  ship 
of  tlie  Agamemnon  type,  which  was  furthest  in 
aiul  just  then  about  to  present  broadside  in  a 
maneuver. 

Four  flashes  of  fire,  four  clouds  of  smoke,  and 
then  came  a  long  crasli  as  the  four  slu'lls  k^ft  the 
main  battery  of  tlie  emj)lacement.  The  screech- 
ing of  the  shells  was  soon  over,  then  a  column  of 
water  rose  ahead  of  the  ship,  another  a  little  short 
of  amidships,  the  third  astern,  and  the  fourth  again 
amidships — all  of  them  off  the  mark. 

What  I  had  feared  came  soon  to  pass.  Within 
the  space  of  two  minutes  the  Allied  ships  had 
brought  their  forward  turrets  face  to  face  with 
Hamidieh  and  forthwith  the  shell  rain  started. 

Of  that  we  got  our  share;  more  than  our  share. 
The  fire  of  the  Allies  was  not  good  this  time.  It 
was  high  and  the  shells  landed  around  us.  Great 
colimins  of  water  and  huge  geysers  of  earth  and 
mud,  flame  and  vapor  rose  and  fell.  For  several 
seconds  the  air  teemed  with  shell  fragments. 
Some  of  them  landed  within  a  few  feet  of  the 
sand-heap — one  of  these  being  the  third  of  a  shell 
and  more  than  four  feet  long. 

Well,  w^e  were  not  the  only  ones  who  were  caught 
on  that  beach. 

I  saw  von  Usedom  Pasha  and  one  of  his  adju- 
tants, Major  Schneider,  and  an  orderly  draw  nigh 
in  good  order  on  the  road  that  runs  from  Tchem- 
enlik  to  Hamidieh. 

When  von  Usedom  came  to  our  sand-heap  he 

100 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED  DARDANELLES 

stopped.  "You  are  not  a  good  risk  for  a  life- 
insurance  company  to-day,"  he  remarked,  lightly 
— too  lightly. 

"Very  true,  Your  Excellency!"  I  returned.  "It 
doesn't  look  as  if  we  were." 

"Can't  you  find  better  cover  than  that?"  he  in- 
quired, quite  unmindful  of  a  huge  geyser  that  rose 
behind  him  that  instant. 

"Not  and  see  anything,"  I  explained,  getting  to 
my  feet. 

"You  had  better  get  down  again.  You  haven't 
much  cover  there  against  shells,  but  it  will  help 
keep  off  some  of  the  pieces,"  said  the  pasha  as  he 
turned  on  his  heels  and  walked  on. 

Before  the  party  got  to  the  little  bridge  over  the 
Rhodios  River  the  pasha  had  a  very  close  call, 
A  large  piece  of  shell  buried  itself  at  his  heels. 
Von  Usedom  looked  around  to  see  what  had  hap- 
pened and  went  on. 

There  was  no  doubt  that  the  Allies  were  riled 
at  the  temerity  of  the  Turks.  They  started  to 
hammer  their  antagonists  in  the  most  merciless 
fashion,  without  knowing,  no  doubt,  how  futile 
their  efforts  really  were. 

In  that  meadowland  around  us  a  shell  could 
have  no  more  than  minimum  effect — a  large  crater 
from  which  the  steel  fragments  sped  skyward — 
to  come  down  again  in  most  perturbing  fashion. 
It  was  not  long  before  this  was  quite  plain  to  Swing 
and  Fuad.  They  no  longer  minded  the  shells; 
the  thing  that  worried  them  was  the  after-effect. 

More  and  more  savage  grew  the  bombardment. 
The  Allies  worked  their  guns  as  hard  as  they  could 

101 


FROM    nKRMX   TO   BAGDAD 

withoul  iiicllin.u-  tluMii  down,  and  llic  Turks  kept 
nndor  firo  wlialcver  was  in  range, 

I  was  wondering  wliat.  tlie  Turks  in  Tehemenlik 
were  doing.  I  lioi)ed  that,  they  at  least  wouhl  not 
get  mixed  uj)  in  tin's  thing.  If  tliey  did  we  on  the 
hcach  wonhl  get  all  the  short  shells  aimed  at  them. 
^Vllile  the  Allies  had  already  tiiken  the  l)attery 
undtM-  fire,  they  had  now  Ix'en  (liveried  to  ITamidieh. 

But  I  had  hardly  finished  taking  in  that  part  of 
the  situation  when  several  shells  reached  Tehem- 
enlik simultaneously. 

I  was  looking  at  the  tower  of  Kaleh  Sultanieh, 
when  I  saw  a  great  cloud  of  smoke  rise  over  its 
parapet.  The  next  instant  the  tower  was  withdrawn 
from  view  hy  the  l)lue  fumes  of  the  shell  and  the 
white  vapor  ribbons  which  the  catapulted  rocks 
drew  after  them.  I  thought  that  the  old  friend 
had  surely  come  down,  but  when  the  smoke  had 
drifted  ofT  I  saw  him  rear  his  proud,  gray  head  as 
hauglitily  as  })efore. 

We  had  by  that  time  large  wads  of  cotton  in 
our  ears.  But  the  stufl'  did  not  keep  much  of  the 
exi)losion-sliock  from  our  tympanums.  Swing  be- 
gan to  complain  of  headache  and  wished  that  he 
were  in  Chicago,  or  at  least  Constantinople,  and 
Fuad  had  been  thoroughly  disillusioned.  Would 
that  bombardment  never  cease.''  That  was  the 
question. 

Haniidieh  was  now  at  it  again,  drawing  more  fire 
for  us.  Fort  Rumeli  Medjidieh  joined,  as  did  Fort 
Rumeli  Hamidieh.  Dardanos  was  barking  now. 
Erenkoi  mixed  in;  the  howitzer  batteries  coughed 
away. 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

I  began  to  think  that  this  general  melee  had 
been  ordered  by  the  Turks  in  order  to  call  the  dogs 
off  Anadolu  Hamidieh.  If  this  was  the  intention, 
it  failed. 

The  Allied  fleet,  not  minding  much  of  anything 
for  the  first  time,  was  sending  salvo  after  salvo 
into  Hamidieh.  Its  temper  was  roused  and  high, 
but  rather  impotent,  I  thought,  so  far  as  the  bat- 
tery was  concerned.  From  my  position  I  could  see 
every  shell  that  fell  near  the  battery;  so  far  the 
parapet  and  traverses  had  not  been  hit  a  single 
time.  The  fire  of  the  Allies  was  good,  but  not 
effective. 

At  three  o'clock  my  friends  could  stand  the  in- 
fernal racket  no  longer.  Swing  and  Fuad  both  were 
anxious  to  leave  the  beach,  and  as  I  had  seen 
enough  of  the  bombardment  for  a  good  despatch, 
there  was  no  reason  why  we  should  remain  ex- 
posed to  danger  any  longer. 

Before  starting  I  warned  them  that  there  was 
great  danger  getting  through  the  Tchemenlik  bat- 
tery. It  might  be  taken  under  fire  again  any  mo- 
ment. I  wanted  to  have  them  understand  that 
they  were  venturing  into  a  center  of  fire. 

But  they  were  willing  to  risk  it. 

Just  as  we  had  gotten  across  the  little  bridge 
over  the  Rhodios  River  a  shell  exploded  fifty  feet 
away  from  us  on  the  beach,  near  a  water-logged 
beam  which  it  sent  rolling  in  our  direction.  Hap- 
pily, the  spread  of  the  steel  fragments  lay  forward 
of  us.  While  we  were  in  the  yard  south  of  the  bat- 
tery a  shell  crashed  into  a  one-story  building  on 
our  right.    The  force  of  the  explosion  almost  threw 


FROM   UERTJN    lO   BAGDAD 

11^  lo  I  he  fri"oinul.  Wo  stopped  aiul  licM  our  arms 
over  our  I'iuvs  lo  a\-oi(l  hjiviii<^  our  eyes  cut  out 
by  tlio  flying  pieces  of  ^hiss, 

Traversinfr  the  yard  of  I  lie  battery,  I  cast  a 
look  ai  the  old  tower.  It  was  still  there,  but  at  its 
southwest  corner  there  was  a  large  crater. 

Nortli  of  tlie  tower  there  is  a  sort  of  tunnel  gate. 
r  concluded  that  that  might  slielter  us  effectivelj'. 
lieforc^  a  shell  could  reach  the  tunnel  itself  it  would 
Jiave  to  ixMietrate  the  old  tower  througli  and 
through,  and  that  was  not  likely.  Only  a  high- 
angle  shell  could  reach  the  tunnel  and  the  Allies 
were  using  no  guns  of  that  sort. 

The  place  was  also  an  excellent  storage  for  spare 
ammunition,  and  tlie  Turks  were  using  it  as  such. 
When  Swing  and  Fuad  saw  the  hundreds  of  shells 
that  stood  in  and  near  the  tunnel  they  decided 
that  it  was  best  to  move  on  a  little  further. 

We  were  now  in  the  large  barrack-yard  north 
of  Tchemenlik,  and  from  that  point  nothing  at  all 
could  be  seen  but  the  exploding  shells  in  the  Kilid- 
il-Balu-  works.  After  luigging  the  old  wall  of  the 
haJeh  for  a  few  minutes,  the  three  of  us  wanted  to 
have  another  look  at  the  bay  from  near  the  old 
breakwater. 

That  came  near  being  our  undoing  forever.  A 
large  shell  exi>loded  in  the  shallow  water  inside  of 
the  breakwater  and  the  load  of  rock  and  splintered 
steel  rushed  past  us.  When  I  had  wiped  the  sea- 
water  out  of  my  eyes  I  saw  that  Swing  and  Fuad 
were  still  alive,  but  swaying  about  in  the  manner  of 
groggy  prize-fighters. 

By  that  time  we  felt  the  need  of  something  wet  and 
104 


AT  THE  SHELL-RAKED   DARDANELLES 

refreshing.  I  knew  of  a  little  Turkish  cafe,  stand- 
ing on  piles  well  out  in  the  street.  I  had  been 
there  once  before  and  had  noticed  that  from  the 
windows  one  gained  a  splendid  view  of  the  Bay 
of  Erenkoi,  though  a  headland  south  of  Kilid-il- 
Bahr  shut  off  all  view  of  the  entrance  to  the  strait. 

We  made  up  our  minds  to  go  there.  We  had 
gone  only  a  few  paces  when  another  shell  hit  in 
the  shallow  water  to  our  right  and  a  little  behind 
us.  There  was  another  avalanche  of  rock,  steel, 
and  copper  shreds,  mud  and  water.  We  fell  prone 
to  let  it  pass  over  us  after  it  was  already  gone. 
Luck  was  with  us  that  moment. 

By  this  time  we  were  ready  to  run.  That  we 
did  not  run  is  due  to  the  fact  that  we  were  too 
tired  and  fatigued.  We  had  been  under  intense, 
if  subdued,  excitement  the  greater  part  of  the  noon 
and  afternoon,  and  were  so  thirsty  that  we  could 
have  gulj>ed  down  sea-water. 

To  my  surprise,  the  little  coffee-house  was  filled 
with  inhabitants  of  Tchanak  Kaleh.  Wet  and 
dirty  as  we  were,  we  caused  no  small  sensation  as 
we  stepped  into  the  place. 

Some  Turks  at  a  table  near  one  of  the  windows 
overlooking  Erenkoi  Bay  made  room  for  us  at 
their  table. 

We  began  to  gulp  down  hot  tea  as  fast  as  the 
waiter  in  high  boots  could  serve  it.  The  cups 
were  not  large,  but  Swing  had  ten  of  them.  I  did 
away  with  six  or  seven,  and  Fuad  had  enough  with 
four.  This  done,  I  got  a  bootblack  to  occupy 
himself  with  me,  and  in  a  few  minutes  I  was  again 
presentable. 

105 


FROM    BEHLIN   TO    MAC ; DAD 

Soon  lluMTiiftcr  llic  homlyarcliiionl  ccnsod.  One 
of  tlio  last  .slu>IIs  sciil  a  .i;rcal  fra^MiuMiL  of  steel 
llirough  a  eookslioj)  adjoining  tlie  little  cafe. 

The  calm  of  the  men  in  the  coffee-shop  was  re- 
inarkable.  They  were  in  innninent  <Ianger,  hut 
did  not  mind  it.  It  may  have  been  the  fatidism 
of  the  East  that  held  their  nerves  in  check. 

"Well,  it  was  tea-time  again.  The  Allied  ships 
withdrew,  and  everyhody  fell,  no  doubt,  that  a 
good  day's  work  had  been  done. 


IV 

WHEN   THE   ALLIED    FLEET    FOOZLED 

March  8th. 

THE  bombardment  of  March  7th  seems  to 
have  persuaded  the  population  of  Tchanak 
Kaleh  that  it  would  be  best  to  go  to  other  regions. 
The  demohtion  of  the  bazaar  and  the  cookshop 
by  fragments  of  shell  had  given  these  people  an 
inkling  of  what  the  effect  of  a  square  hit  would  be. 

There  had  been  little  response  to  the  proclamation 
of  the  haimmakam  and  Djevad  Pasha,  the  com- 
mander of  the  Dardanelles.  Much  more  was  ac- 
complished by  the  shells. 

F.  Swing  and  I  were  hauled  out  of  our  beds 
at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  by  a  tremendous 
babble  under  our  windows.  It  was  dark  yet.  A 
great  crowd  was  surging  about  on  the  quay,  how- 
ever. Everybody  was  trying  to  get  into  the  ma- 
honies  ahead  of  some  one  else.  It  seemed  that  of 
a  sudden  the  population  was  gone  mad.  The 
stoical  indifference  of  yesterday  had  disappeared. 

Most  of  the  noise  was  being  made  by  those  about 
to  embark,  and  much  of  it  concerned  the  littk 
baggage  that  could  be  taken  along.  It  seemed 
hard  to  tell  the  bundles  apart.     Somebody  would 

107 


FROM    BERLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

sc'\/.c  wlial  (lid  nol  ht'long  to  liini  or  licr  and  scroniiis 
and  <'\])oslulalions  would  ciisnc. 

Knowing'  well  enough  I  ha  I  Ihorc  would  he  no 
more  slooi>  for  us  tliat  morning,  V.  Swing  and  I 
got  up,  dressed,  look  breakfast,  and  then  watched 
the  migration. 

It  was  a  motley  crowd — Greeks,  Turks,  Ar- 
menians, and  what  not.  Most  of  the  women,  re- 
gardless of  race,  ^\•ore  ])ant<iloons  tied  at  tlie  ankles 
and  belt,  a  sort  of  blouse,  also  a  sliawl  in  case  of  the 
Christians;  yasJniuik  and  feredcheh  in  the  case  of 
Moslems. 

There  w^as  an  unkempt  look  about  the  women. 
I  concluded  that  it  was  largely  due  to  the  circimi- 
stances  under  which  they  were  leaving  home,  hav- 
ing had  ample  opportunity  to  observe  that  usually 
these  women  were  rather  tidy. 

The  men  made  a  better  appearance.  They  were 
a  picturesque  lot.  Their  loose  trousers,  high  boots, 
richly  colored  waistbands,  colored  shirts,  and  em- 
broidered jackets  were  of  good  material  and  con- 
trasted sharply  with  the  garb  of  the  women. 

Some  soldiers  and  gendarmes  arrived  to  keep 
order  in  the  crowd.  At  least  this  had  been  some- 
body's intention.  But  nothing  of  the  sort  hap- 
pened. The  minions  of  law  and  order  began  shortly 
to  increase  the  babble  and  bedlam.  The  Turk  has 
to  do  just  so  much  scolding,  no  matter  what  he  is 
about. 

Every  now^  and  then  a  mahonie,  loaded  to 
overflowing  with  men,  women,  children,  and  bag- 
gage-, would  set  sail  for  the  Central  Dardanelles. 
We  learned  that  off  Nagara  several  steamers  were 

108 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED   FLEET  FOOZLED 

waiting  for  the  refugees.  Everybody  had  to  pay 
passage,  of  course.  Those  who  wanted  to  go  to 
Constantinople  could  do  that,  though  the  advice 
was  being  given  that  it  might  be  best  to  visit 
relatives  in  the  interior. 

1  wondered  what  would  become  of  many  of  the 
pretty  Greek  girls  when  they  got  to  the  capital. 
Qui  vivra  verra! 

There  is  no  crowd  so  iX)or  as  to  be  without  class 
distinction.  It  was  so  in  this  case.  People  with 
a  little  ready  cash  on  hand  had  hired  mahonies 
to  take  them  to  their  destination.  They  were 
taking  along  much  of  their  furnishings,  which  in 
the  case  of  the  Turks  consisted  almost  entirely 
of  taborets,  large  brass  trays,  some  china,  and 
bales  of  carpets.  Each  family  of  this  "better 
class"  had  a  large  number  of  pet  animals,  dogs, 
cats,  parrots,  rabbits,  and  the  like. 

For  them  the  start  of  the  hegira  was  something 
of  a  holiday.  Father  saw  to  it  that  his  own  were 
made  comfortable  in  the  sailboat,  and  mother 
acted  very  much  like  a  hen  taking  care  of  a  playful 
flock  of  hatchlings.  The  children  were  having  a 
great  time  of  it.  To  them  it  meant  an  outing 
and  nothing  more. 

On  the  fringes  of  the  vast  crowd  were  the  very 
poor.  They  were  timid.  How  to  get  the  fare  that 
would  take  them  to  Constantinople  or  some  other 
place  was  a  problem  they  had  not  been  able  to 
solve.  Some  of  them  were  offering  then*  belong- 
ings for  sale.  But  in  a  crowd  that  was  leaving 
behind  many  much  better  things  than  these  poor 
devils  were  willing  to  sell  nobody  bought,  of  course. 

109 


FROM    JU:HMN    ro   lUClDAD 

As  [\\r  last  iiKilioiiifs  juiIKmI  away  lor  llir  sloain- 
rrs,  wliosi'  siuoko  couKl  bo  soon  rising  boliind  ('ai)o 
Na.^ara,  lluvso  iinfortinuiios  bocaiiio  IVanlic.  'J'boy 
a]>i)oalo(l  to  the  ^^'lulaniios  aiul  to  soino  officors. 
1^11 1  lluit  was  of  no  avail.  By  noon  many  of  Ihoni 
luul  ivturnod  to  tlioir  homos  in  town. 

In  llio  afliM-noon  my  frion<l  and  I  took  a  mahonic 
to  go  to  tho  works  of  Kilid-il-Jialir.  Wo  wanted  lo 
soo  what  damage  the  bombardmoiit  had  done.  No 
British  sliii>s  were  in  siglit,  though  the  weather 
was  good.  Tlie  fact  tJiat  wo  had  to  sail  around 
the  mine-field  made  tlio  trip  agreeably  long. 

The  connnandor  of  tho  Kilid-il-Bahr  batteries 
received  us  very  i)loasantly.  Wo  made  it  a  ]>oint 
to  impress  him  with  tlie  fact  that  we  liad  come  to 
])ay  our  rosjKicts.  Of  course,  we  would  not  ol^ject 
l)oing  taken  around  the  works  to  see  how  "little" 
damage  there  really  had  been  done. 

We  had  the  usual  coffee  and  cigarettes  and  talked 
to  the  connnandant  with  the  aid  of  our  inimitable 
and  indisj)onsa})lo  Fuad  llcchad  Bey. 

The  old  commander  was  one  of  the  few  Turkish 
officers  of  the  old  school  who  had  })een  allowed  to 
stay  in  tlie  service  wlien  Enver  Taslia  came  to  the 
helm.  He  had  never  been  out  of  Turkey  m  his 
life. 

That  under  those  circumstances  he  should  be 
loft  in  command  of  so  important  a  ix)int  as  Kilid- 
il-Bahr  surprised  me  greatly  for  a  time — until  I 
was  taken  over  the  batteries.  The  commander 
might  be  a  home-product  oflBcer,  but  I  doubt  if  a 
more  effioioiit  man  could  bo  found  along  the  entire 

strait,   the  Germans  included.     The  effort  of  the 

no 


WHEN   THE  ALLIED   FLEET  FOOZLED 

organizer  and  disciplinarian  was  discernible  every- 
where. 

The  effect  of  the  Allies'  fire  was  not  great  by 
any  means.  The  damage  done  was  small — ridicu- 
lously small.  Not  a  single  gun  had  been  damaged. 
A  small  barracks,  several  sheds,  three  living-houses 
and  a  number  of  outhouses  had  been  destroyed. 
A  large  barracks  and  five  other  buildings  were 
slightly  damaged.  Two  gunners  dead  and  seven 
wounded  were  the  total  of  the  casualties. 

It  was  rather  different  beyond  the  precincts  of 
the  coast-defense  establishment.  The  southern  part 
of  the  town  of  Kilid-il-Bahr  had  suffered  severely. 
Shells  had  set  the  buildings  afire,  and  an  inspec- 
tion of  the  burned-over  area  showed  that  most 
of  the  shells  of  the  Allies'  guns  had  struck  there. 

The  old  commander  was  highly  pleased,  natu- 
rally. He  concluded  that  there  was  so  much  room 
about  his  batteries  that  the  Allies  would  have  to 
hammer  away  a  long  time  before  they  could  hope 
to  steam  past  his  bailiwick.  When  I  saw  the  shells 
of  the  Queen  Elizabeth,  which  had  not  exploded,  I 
felt  that  the  old  man  was  not  far  from  being  right. 

After  the  commandant,  a  score  of  his  oflScers, 
and  the  chaplain,  hodja,  and  we  had  been  photo- 
graphed behind  one  of  the  shells  of  Queen  Bess, 
Swing  and  I  concluded  to  take  a  look  at  a  real 
Turkish  town — Kilid-il-Bahr.  There  would  be  no 
war  that  day  from  the  look  of  things.  The  sirocco 
was  blowing  gently  into  the  Dardanelles  and  with 
it  came  just  enough  haze  to  make  visibility  low. 

We  found  Kilid-il-Bahr  a  most  interesting  place. 
Any  place  becomes  that  when  Swing  is  along.  His 
8  111 


FROM    lUlRLlN   TO   BAGDxVD 

poi'lic  soul  fiiuls  roiiiaiicc  aiul  i>ictiiresqueness  any- 
whore.     But  Kilid-il-liahr  is  beautiful. 

It  was  still  in  the  uarrow  streets.  The  houses 
had  heeii  deserted.  'Jlu-ough  the  lallieed  windows 
and  shahiiicliiNs  sliowed  dainty  scrim  curtains. 
IIer(«  and  there  they  would  blow  from  a  window  that 
had  l>een  left  oi>en. 

Over  the  garden  walls  peeped  cherry,  i)luni, 
almond,  and  apple  trees  witli  more  bloom  than 
foliage  on  them.  The  gi'een  of  the  willows  was 
\'ery  fresh.  White,  slender  minarets  reached  into 
the  blue  sky.  The  old  giviy  walls  of  the  castle 
erected  by  Sult^m  Mohanmied  II  were  set  off  by 
heaven-reaching  cypresses  of  som]>er  green.  At  the 
end  of  the  alleys  one  caught  glimpses  of  the  deli- 
cate welter  tints  of  the  Dardanelles. 

Swing  and  I  invited  ourselves  into  a  Turkish 
home.  We  got  Fuad  to  simulate  the  owner  thereof. 
The  door  was  open. 

The  front  room  of  the  ground  floor,  lighted  by 
a  single  small  window  high  up,  had  been  used  for 
storage  purposes.  To  one  side  of  this  was  a  narrow 
hall  with  the  stiiirs  leading  to  the  story  above. 
Back  of  the  storeroom  was  another  room  with  a 
high  window  looking  toward  the  garden.  Then 
came  the  kitchen.  It  had  an  open  hearth,  and  the 
walls  and  ceilings  were  thickly  covered  with  soot. 

The  yard  was  very  tidy  and  screened  off  from 
the  houses  in  the  rear  by  a  hedge  of  cypresses. 

All  sorts  of  tender  green  things  peeped  out  of 
the  beds  in  the  garden.  The  dwarf  fruit-trees 
along  the  garden  wall  were  in  bloom.  There  were 
green  berries  on  the  strawberry-plants  under  the 

112 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

stunted  fniit-trees.  In  the  corner  nearest  the  street 
was  a  sort  of  rose  garden.  The  gravel  paths  and 
stone  borders  of  the  beds  indicated  that  somebody 
had  bestowed  much  care  and  love  upon  this  little 
spot. 

We  re-entered  the  house  and  went  up-stairs. 
The  Turk  never  lives  on  the  ground  floor  when  he 
can  avoid  it.  It  was  so  in  this  case.  The  entire 
lower  story  had  been  given  over  to  other  than 
living  purposes.  Fuad  explained  that  his  people 
do  not  care  to  live  within  stone  walls.  He  as- 
signed this  as  reason  why  most  houses  in  Turkey 
have  a  stone  understructure,  while  wood  only  is 
used  on  the  story  above. 

The  upper  floor  remained  in  much  the  same  con- 
dition as  when  tenanted.  The  Turks  do  not  care 
much  for  furniture,  and  when  the  carpets  and  rugs 
have  been  taken  up  and  baled  one  is  ready  to 
move.    It  had  been  so  in  this  case. 

Around  the  room  ran  the  wooden  part  of  the 
divan — a  mere  box  with  here  and  there  a  drawer 
in  it.  The  mattresses  had  been  taken  away,  as  had 
the  covers  and  pillows.  An  old  carpet  and  two 
threadbare  and  frayed  rugs  were  all  that  remained 
of  that  part  of  the  menage. 

Whether  that  family  had  been  rich  or  not  so 
rich  was  hard  to  say.  The  bare  floors,  white- 
washed walls  and  ceilings,  left  that  a  mooted  ques- 
tion. Swing  discovered  an  empty  perfume-bottle 
in  the  corner  of  one  of  the  rear  rooms.  We  did 
our  best  to  establish  the  quality  of  the  perfume, 
but  failed.  Finally  Fuad  took  a  sniff.  He,  too, 
was  unable  to  arrive  at  a  conclusion.    As  a  clue  tg 

113 


FROM   HKRIJN  TO  BAC.DAD 

\hc  fjiniily's  oiulo\VTiient  wllli  the  ^'ood  tilings  of 
this  t'urtli  Ihr  h'llh'  hollh'  was  a  faihirc. 

AV(*  li>l't  tlic  house  aiul  asceiulod  llic  mountain 
l)ack  of  the  town.  There  was  a  hirge  wireless  sta- 
tion there  wliieli  we  wanted  to  see.  On  the  way 
up  we  ])assed  a  Tiukisli  shepjierd  who  was  minding 
some  threescore  of  sheep  to  the  tune  of  his  kaval. 

The  wireless  st^ition  N\as  a  very  mo<lern,  and  to 
Swing  a  very  banal,  afl'air.  Swing  hates  the  things 
that  are  modern.  He  says  that  civilization  as  the 
real  thing  is  not  being  helped  by  this  tremendous 
mechanical  progress. 

This  insp>ection  over,  we  scaled  a  crag,  and  from 
up  there  looked  into  the  alleys  of  Kilid-il-Bahr  and 
the  inclosures  of  Mohammed's  castle.  That  was 
my  friend's  great  opi>ortunity.  Up  there  one's 
vision  was  unhampered. 

Before  long  Swing  was  spouting  the  history  of  the 
Hellespont.  Dorians,  Athenians,  and  Spartans, 
Pericles,  Themistocles,  Pausanius  and  Cleonice, 
Alcibiades,  not  to  mention  the  heroes  of  Troy  and 
the  lovers  of  Abydos  and  Sestos,  and  such  plebes 
as  Cyrus,  Alexander  the  Great,  and  Pompey,  came 
to  the  mind  of  Swing  like  reels  of  a  moving-picture 
l>efore  the  eyes  of  the  crowd. 

Indeed,  from  the  crag  upon  which  we  were 
jx'rched  one  could  see  the  locales  of  the  most  heroic 
exploits  of  antifjuity. 

To  the  soutli  of  us,  in  a  bend  of  the  Mendereh 
\\illey,  we  spotted  with  our  glasses  the  hill  upon 
which  lie  the  remains  of  Troy.  A  little  to  the  north 
of  that  we  spied  a  peak,  Moimt  Ida,  the  "couch 

of  flowers"  of  which  Homer  sings  in  the  Iliad. 

Hi 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

Down  on  the  Anatolian  shore  we  saw  the  hill  of 
Dardanos,  in  whose  bowels  rest  the  remains  of  a 
city,  perhaps  older  than  Troy;  and  to  our  right 
lay  glistening  in  the  sunshine  the  Heptastadion 
Ford  made  famous  by  the  alleged  feats  as  a  swim- 
mer of  one  Leander  and  his  love  for  Hero. 

We  concluded  that  any  good  swimmer  could  get 
across  the  strait  of  Nagara,  provided  he  started 
far  enough  upstream.  Swing  there  and  then 
decided  that  he  would  repeat  the  exploit  of  Leander 
and  Lord  Byron — provided  he  was  accompanied  by 
a  boat. 

In  the  evening  we  were  the  guests,  at  dinner,  of 
a  Turkish  general-staff  officer.  Our  host  proved  to 
be  a  most  modern  sort  of  Islamite. 

The  teachings  of  Mohammed,  the  great  jjrophet, 
were  largely  philosophy  to  him,  he  said  with  frank- 
ness and  in  the  presence  of  a  score  of  other  Turkish 
officers.  It  was  poor  philosophy  at  that.  He 
thought  that  Moses  made  a  much  better  job  of  it, 
especially  from  a  legal  and  moral  point  of  view. 

But  as  he  progressed  our  host  found  fault  even 
with  Moses.  That  personage,  he  insisted,  was 
somewhat  of  a  plagiarizer.  The  laws  of  Moses 
were  things  not  unknown  to  the  Chaldeans  and 
Sumerians,  as  recent  finds  in  cuneiform  tablets  had 
demonstrated  ad  libitum.' 

There  was  not,  and  there  could  not  be,  anything 
new  under  the  sun.  Civilization  was  a  thing  of 
indefinable  qualities  and  dimensions,  he  said. 
What  proof  had  we  that  the  ancient  Sumerian, 
in  his  boat  of  wicker-work  and  pitch,  did  not 
travel  just  as  fast  to  his  liking  as  did  we  who 

115 


FROM    HKRi.lN    TO    HACDAI) 

crossed  [\\v  Allanlic  iu  a  slcaincr  iiuiking  Iwenly 
knots  iiii  lioiir? 

Wlial  j)t'<)|>l('  (lid  no(  know  did  not  worry  tlieni. 
^^V  were  niislakiiig  nieelianical  improvements  lor 
hnman  process,  thonght  our  host. 

Tlie  man  is  well  informed.  Oriental  history  is 
at  his  finger-ti]>s.  The  customs  of  the  East  he 
reeounts  with  the  greatest  facihty.  He  named  for 
me  a  string  of  Armenian  kings  lliat  took  my  l)reath 
away.  The  rnk'rs  of  Old  Byzantium  nnght  have 
been  his  next-door  neighbors;  Queen  Hatsheput  his 
aunt. 

She  may  have  been  so  far  as  looks  go. 

That  meant,  of  course,  that  Swing  was  in  his 
element.  He  helped  to  maintain  as  fine  a  line  of 
philosophj'  as  I  have  heard  in  a  long  while. 

Soon  the  two  became  too  abstract,  with  the  re- 
sult that  Fuad  and  myself  dropi>ed  out  and  con- 
sumed all  the  coffee  and  the  cigarettes.  While 
Ibrahim  Bey  and  Swing  were  tearing  the  cosmic 
scheme  to  pieces  and  putting  it  under  the  micro- 
scoj>e,  Fuad  and  I  exchanged  confidences  on  Paris 
and  agreed  tliat  the  city  on  the  Seine  was  a  lovely 
place. 

March  11th. 

F.  Swing  and  I  surrendered  ourselves  to  the 
attendants  of  the  Turkish  bath — a  real  Turkisli 
bath — to-day.     It  was  quite  an  experience. 

Not  that  we  have  not  bathed  since  Pera.  We 
have  done  that  o'  nights  in  the  chilly  waters  of 
the  Dardanelles.  But  there  cometh  a  time  when 
one  feels  the  need  of  a  good  steaming.     We  got 

IIG 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

that.  Later  we  had  our  epidermis  saturated  with 
perfumed  alcohol,  and  since  then  we  have  risen 
one  hundred  per  cent,  in  our  own  opinions. 

This  afternoon  I  had  a  long  talk  with  Admiral- 
General  von  Usedom  Pasha,  the  purpose  of  which 
was  to  get  some  information  on  relations  between 
the  Turks  and  Germans  here. 

I  learned  that  these  relations  are  not  entirely 
frictionless.  The  Germans  say  that  they  are  doing 
all  the  work.  The  Turks  claim  all  the  credit. 
Von  Usedom  Pasha  said  that  he  did  not  mind  this, 
but  that  some  of  the  officers  under  him  were  less 
liberal  in  that  respect.  He  was  content  with  being 
of  account  to  his  fatherland  anywhere.  Whether 
that  was  at  the  Dardanelles  or  in  the  North  Sea 
would  never  worry  him. 

There  were  one  or  two  things  which  the  Turks 
and  Germans  had  overlooked  so  far.  The  white 
minarets  and  houses,  the  great  towers  of  the 
kalehs  at  Tchanak  Kaleh  and  Kilid-il-Bahr,  and 
the  white  stone  revets  of  some  of  the  batteries, 
have  in  the  past  made  excellent  targets  for  the 
Allied  gunners.  That  having  been  ascertained, 
these  surfaces  are  now  being  cross-hatched  with 
black  paint. 

Old  Kaleh  Sultanleh  has  a  comical  look  now. 
It  is  undignified  treatment  that  has  been  given 
the  old  pile.  But  there  was  no  help  for  it.  The 
white  minarets  about  town  look  just  as  crazy. 
Some  of  the  more  prominent  trees  are  being  chopped 
down,  among  them  several  of  the  stately  willows 
on  the  Rhodios  River  back  of  Anadolu  Hamidieh. 

Just  now  Dardanelles  is  peaceful  enough.     The 

117 


^^()^^  dkrux  n^  kacoad 

;iir  is  l);ilin\'  willi  tlic  scciils  of  spring'.  Tlu'  trees 
hlooin  aiul  the  foliage  is  making'  gcuxl  lieadway. 
Tlio  liodgos  are  groeii,  aiul  sucli  lirlds  as  were  tillol 
before  the  exodus  are  doing  well  tjnough. 

F.  Swing  and  I  sjH'nd  nuicli  lime  nnder  the  great 
elin-trei»  in  front  of  a  little  cafe  to  one  side  of  the 
triangnlar  ])laza  on  the  rne  Saat  Ilissarlik — Street, 
of  the  Clock  Tower.  The  ])roprietor  has  moved 
the  tiihles  there  so  that  the  patrons  may  snn 
themseh'es. 

So  we  watch  the  traffic  by  the  honrs.  It  is  en- 
tirely a  military  traffic.  Regiments  of  infantry 
tramp  past  us  all  day  long,  some  of  them  going 
sonth  toward  Kum  Kaleh,  others  returning.  Artil- 
lery is  being  trundled  back  and  forth.  Engineer 
equi]>ment  is  taken  one  way  or  another,  and  there 
seems  to  be  no  end  to  the  supply  cohmms.  Great 
strings  of  camel-trains  amble  along — ten  animals 
to  the  string,  with  a  little  burro  at  their  head  as 
leader. 

'\Mosyu  Sweng"  and  I — there  is  no  reason  why 
I  should  perpetuate  the  cognomen  by  which  I  am 
known  hereabout  —  are  gi*eat  favorites.  Every- 
bod\'  buys  cofiee  and  tea  for  us,  offers  cigarettes, 
and  invites  us  to  the  mess.  Well,  there  is  no  reason 
why  we  should  not  enjoy  life  while  we  can.  It  may 
be  different  very  soon. 

There  are  a  great  number  of  Allied  ships  in  the 
Bay  of  Mudros.  Others  are  steaming  toward  the 
Dardanelles,  according  to  "inside"  sources.  Since 
the  weather  is  entirely  favorable  for  a  continua- 
tion of  the  bombardments,  we  have  been  wonder- 
ing why  the  Allies  left  off  so  suddenly  on  April 

lis 


WHEN  THE   ALLIED   FLEET   FOOZLED 

7th.  Putting  two  and  two  together  means  in  this 
case  that  the  British  and  French  are  preparing 
for  an  operation  on  a  scale  larger  than  what  has 
yet  been  attempted.  I  fear,  Swing  fears,  they  all 
fear,  that  there  will  be  a  grand  concert  one  of  these 
days.  Little  may  be  left  of  us  when  that  concert 
is  over. 

We  would  like  to  be  back  in  Pera.  But  that 
cannot  be.  If  something  big  should  come  to  pass 
in  my  absence  somebody  in  New  York  would  raise 
all  sorts  of  a  row,  and  Swing  says  that  we  will  get 
scant  thanks  if  we  emerge  crippled  for  life.  There 
are  times  when  Swing  is  inclined  to  be  gloomy. 

March  13th, 

It  is  night. 

The  wind  from  the  Mediterranean  has  blown 
low-hanging  clouds  over  the  Dardanelles  Strait, 
which  now  precipitate  in  cold  rain. 

The  hill  masses  above  the  shores  of  the  water- 
way and  the  Bay  of  Erenkoi  are  enveloped  in  im- 
penetrable gloom,  since  the  starlit  sky,  at  first 
still  visible  in  purple  patches,  was  blotted  out. 

Around  the  battlements  of  the  old  tower  of 
Kaleh  Sultanieh  howls  a  tempestuous  wind  in  dis- 
mal tones.  Even  the  many  owls  who  inhabit  the 
old  pile  seem  to  find  the  situation  unpleasant  and 
flutter  about,  with  their  screeches  fitting  well  into 
the  picture. 

The  good  Dardanellians,  who  have  not  yet  taken 
to  flight,  are  within  doors  and  are  glad  of  it,  or 
ought  to  be. 

Over  the  parapets  and  traverses  of  the  batteries 

119 


FRO^I  BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

of  Fort  Anadolii  ILiniidioli  tlio  rain  sweeps  in 
cold  sheets.     Men  in  oilskins  are  on  jx)st. 

The  seareli-li^lits  alon^'  tJie  Bay  of  Erenkoi 
lia\'e  l)een  traveling  over  the  waters  lazily,  reveal- 
ing; nothiiii,'  tliat  wonld  excite  interest.  The  men 
in  I  he  batteries  and  at  tlie  search-lights  are 
gnarding  tlie  goal  of  the  Allied  fleet — Constan- 
tino]>le. 

It  :s  war! 

For  a  while  the  lights  continue  to  wander  about 
aimlessly.  So  it  seems.  Their  bright  rays  illume 
the  wave-crests  in  the  bay  and  occasionally  light 
up  parts  of  the  shore.  One  gets  the  imjwession 
that  the  men  directing  the  lights  play  with  them 
in  this  manner  so  that  the  weary  night  may  pass 
the  Cjiuicker. 

Of  a  sudden  one  of  the  projected  rays  fixes  itself 
on  some  object  near  the  Gate  of  the  Dardanelles. 
In  the  same  moment  the  object  emits  a  yellow 
flash — and  then  another. 

Fifteen  seconds  elapse  and  then  two  red  flames 
leap  from  the  ground  where  the  bright  glow  of 
the  search-light  is  seen.  Simultaneously  the  car- 
bons of  the  search-light  show  red  and  then  die, 
while  from  some  other  point  a  new  ray  appears. 

The  Allies  are  at  their  nightly  task  of  shelling 
the  search-lights,  preparatory  to  sending  a  large 
mine-sweeping  fleet  into  Erenkoi  Bay.  The  vigi- 
lance of  the  Turks  and  Germans  has  made  this 
task  dangerous  and  tedious,  but  it  must  not  be 
neglected  if  the  Allied  ships  are  to  go  to  the 
Ottoman  capital. 

Other  flashes  come  from  the  ships,  and  near  the 

120 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED   FLEET  FOOZLED 

Turkish  projectors  more  red  sheets  of  fire  leap  into 
the  night. 

Soon  a  night  engagement  is  on. 

Guided  by  their  search-lights,  the  Turkish  gun- 
ners take  the  AlHed  vessels  under  fire.  The  black 
hollow  between  the  Gallipoli  and  Anatolian  heights 
begins  to  echo  and  reverberate  the  crash  of  artil- 
lery and  exploding  shells. 

Every  projector  is  in  play  now. 

The  almost  circular  shores  of  the  bay  spit  fire 
at  many  ix)ints  and  the  Allied  light  war  craft 
which  is  now  over  the  entrance  replies  industri- 
ously. Through  the  night  air  sing  shells  of  the 
small  bores  with  plaintive  whines.  Steel  fragments 
shriek  and  whistle  in  all  directions. 

From  nearby  coast  batteries  the  word  of  com- 
mand is  heard.  Four  flashes  follow  soon  after- 
ward, and  out  in  the  bay,  a  few  seconds  later,  rise 
as  many  opalescent  water  columns  in  the  path  of  a 
search-light.  A  Turkish  howitzer  battery  answers 
the  call  from  its  lofty  perch. 

But,  altogether  undismayed,  the  British  de- 
stroyer nosed  its  way  across  the  waters  of  Erenkoi. 
It  finally  came  within  range  of  the  night-glass. 

The  Turkish  search-lights  showed  its  low  and 
glistening  hull,  three  funnels,  two  masts,  turrets,  and 
gun-barrels,  like  high-lights  in  a  smudge  drawing. 
Now  and  then  the  flashes  of  the  ship's  own  guns 
would  reveal  some  other  details.  Its  gunners  were 
not  saving  ammunition.  They  were  sending  it  to 
the  sites  of  the  Turkish  projectors  as  fast  as  it  was 
possible  to  serve  the  pieces. 

These  are  the  essential  details  of  an  attack  made 

121 


FROM    BERLIN    TO    liAClDAl) 

night  hcfoiv  last  on  the  'J'urkisli  miiio-iichl;  they 
arc  I ypical  of  all  the  otlier  attein]){s  that  have  been 
ina<k'  by  Ihc  Allies  to  rid  the  fairway  of  llie  Dar- 
danelh\s  of  this  sort  of  obstacle.  Generally,  the 
l)erforniance  on  lliis  night  stiige  begins  at  eleven 
o'clock  and  ends  when  dawn  creeps  over  the  Ana- 
tolian hills. 

The  mine-sweepers  of  the  Allies  are  in  many 
cases  sailing-boats  manned  by  Greeks  from  the 
adjacent  islands.  Night  before  last  one  of  them 
sailed  a  little  too  far  north.  A  Turkish  search- 
light kept  its  sail  illumined.  Several  small  water- 
spouts had  risen  around  it. 

The  undaunted  master  of  the  ship  kept  on.  Sud- 
denly a  vivid  flash  sprang  up  wdiere  the  sail  had 
been  seen,  and  when  it  died  away  the  search-light 
showed  no  more  than  bits  of  wreckage — the  ma- 
honic  had  struck  a  mine. 

Later  three  steam  mine-sweepers  were  sunk  by 
'J'urkish  artillery  fire. 

It  had  been  a  costly  night  for  the  Allies,  and 
they  decided  to  give  up  another  one  of  their  at- 
tem])ts  to  rid  the  channel  of  mines. 

Last  night  the  Allied  mine-sweeping  dei)artment 
returned  in  full  force  under  the  protection  of  a 
heavy  thunder-storm  and  rain.  For  a  while  the 
fleet  kept  near  the  mouth  of  the  Mendereh 
River. 

Later  a  cruiser  advanced  and  began  to  bombard 
the  Turkish  projectors,  whose  lights  served  better 
in  the  heavy  atmosi)here  to  reveal  their  location 
than  to  illumine  the  waters  of  Erenkoi.  A  lively 
cannonade   ensued   between    ship   and   anti-mine- 

122 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

sweeper  battery.    It  ended  another  attempt  to  get 
rid  of  the  mines. 

So  far  the  Allies  have  made  five  serious  attempts 
to  sweep  the  channel.  None  of  them  has  been  a 
success.  The  few  mines  they  have  been  able  to 
get  have  been  replaced  by  the  Turks  with  Russian 
mines  which  have  floated  into  the  Bosphorus  after 
having  been  liberated  with  malice  aforethought  by 
the  Russians  near  the  entrance  to  that  strait. 

March  16th. 

There  was  much  ado  here  to-day.  A  party  of 
Ottoman  government  officials  and  members  of  the 
Parliament  came  down  from  Constantinople  to  con- 
vince themselves  that  as  yet  there  was  no  occasion 
for  anxiety. 

The  gentlemen  seemed  very  much  relieved  when 
they  saw  that  the  Dardanelles  were  still  on  the 
old  spot.  There  was  much  talking  and  gesticula- 
tion. The  Turkish  "Ts"  worked  overtime  in  fer- 
vent '"  mashallah,  inshallah,  bismillah"  and  other 
^'allahs."  The  Moslem  seems  to  invoke  the  Deity 
quite  as  much  as  other  people  when  he  becomes 
excited  and  interested. 

The  American  ambassador  to  Turkey  was  a 
member  of  that  party,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  the 
novel  outing  very  much.  It  is  not  often  that  a 
peace-loving  diplomatist  gets  so  close  to  the  scene 
of  death  and  destruction. 

Mr.  Morgenthau  was  taken  to  Dardanos,  Ana- 
dolu  Hamidieh,  Tchemenlik,  and  the  Kilid-il-Bahr 
batteries.  He  seemed  much  impressed  by  what 
he  had  seen. 

123 


FROM   BERLIN  TO   BAGDAD 

Swing  and  I  had  an  invitation  to  trail  along. 
Bui  IIkmv  was  nothing  to  he  seen  so  far  as  we  were 
coneerntHJ.  Inslead  we  spent  iJie  time  under  tlie 
large  ehn,  watehing  the  lovelorn  sparrows  and  the 
stupid  eaniels  over  many  a  glass  of  frhai  (tea). 

In  tJie  afternoon  I  boarded  the  yacht  tli.at  had 
brought  the  party  to  the  Dardanelles.  Mr.  Mor- 
genthau  was  asked  what  he  thought  of  it.  I 
gathered  that  he  had  been  highly  skeptical  of  the 
official  communiques  of  the  Ottoman  government, 
and  my  own  despatches,  which  generally  come  to 
his  notice. 

Of  course,  BUs  Excellency  could  not  say  much. 
But  he  siiid  this  much  for  publication : 

"There  is  nothing  nnich  for  me  to  say.  I  found 
the  forts  undamaged  and  the  situation  good.  The 
spirit  of  the  officers  and  men  is  one  of  tranquillity 
and  confidence." 

One  has  to  be  careful  when  one  quotes  an  am- 
bassador.   So  I  jotted  down  the  few  words. 

That  done,  I  relieved  the  ambassador  of  twenty 
Turkish  pounds,  which  I  need  in  my  business. 

When  the  yacht  was  off  I  accepted  an  invitation 
from  Prince  Henry  of  Reuss,  thirty-ninth  of  his 
line,  to  go  mine-fisliing.  He  warned  me  that  it 
was  a  most  dangerous  form  of  sport. 

While  tlie  mush  was  skirting  the  western  limits 
of  the  mine-field  I  learned  that  the  mine  had  gotten 
away  from  its  mooring  and  that  it  was  drifting 
toward  the  entrance  of  the  strait.  There  it  might 
sink  one  of  the  Allied  ships  in  a  most  unexpected 
manner. 

My  impression  that   Prince   Henry   wanted  to 

124 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

prevent  this  contingency  caused  me  to  wonder. 
Why  should  he,  of  all  people,  be  so  concerned? 
He  is  the  mine  expert  hereabout  and  makes  usu- 
ally a  specialty  of  setting  mines  adrift.  Why  this 
sudden  compassion? 

As  we  hunted  the  waters  near  the  Gallipoli  shore 
I  learned  more  of  the  prince's  intentions.  That 
particular  sort  of  mine  he  wanted  to  keep  in  a 
fixed  position.  He  had  none  too  many  of  that  sort. 
It  was  a  large  affair  with  enough  explosives  in  it  to 
cut  any  dreadnaught  in  two  like  a  lump  of  cheese. 

We  hunted  and  hunted — and  found  nothing.  It 
seems  that  the  pesky  critter  had  too  much  of  a 
start  on  us. 

Near  the  entrance  to  the  strait  an  Allied  scout- 
boat  was  fooling  around,  and  since  we  had  no  gun 
on  the  steam-cutter  it  was  decided  not  to  press  the 
point.  The  scout  might  see  us  and  announce  that 
fact  with  a  salvo  from  her  rapid-fire  pieces.  That 
would  be  disagreeable. 

So  we  pulled  back.  Prince  Henry  regretted  that 
we  had  not  been  more  successful.  But  I  was  fully 
satisfied  with  the  trip. 

We  had  skirted  the  boundaries  of  the  mine-field, 
marked  by  small  barrels  painted  gray  and  having 
a  red  band  around  the  belly.  I  had  also  established 
the  density  of  the  mines  in  the  field,  so  that  now 
I  had  a  good  idea  of  how  many  of  these  death- 
dealing  giant  pears — for  such  is  the  shape  of  these 
mines — the  Allies  would  have  to  take  up  before  the 
strait  was  clear. 

I  wondered  how  welcome  that  and  some  other 
exclusive   information   would   be   to   the   Entente 

125 


I'llOM    HKRI-IX   TO    BAGDAD 

<^i)\(MMinu'nls.  Bui  tluMi,  1  am  iindcr  Otioinan 
milit^iry  law,  and,  wliat  is  far  more  iinporlaiit, 
I  liavr  lU'vor  \ol  Aiolato<l  thai  of  liospitality. 

March   19th. 

Ye  gods  and  little  fish(\s!  I  am  still  alive  and 
so  overjoyed  tluit.  it  is  liard  to  bring  my  I'eet  back 
to  e«irtli. 

They  were  much  in  the  air  yesterday. 

jNIarch  the  eighteentJi  will  always  be  an  anni- 
vers«iry  with  F.  Swing  and  myself;  also  with  poor 
Fuad/ 

The  British  came  back  yesterday,  accompanied 
by  the  French.  It  was  to  be  a  great  day.  They 
were  perfectly  willing  to  make  it  that.  This  was 
to  be  no  puny  affair. 

With  nineteen  battleships  of  the  line  and  tliirty 
cruisers,  and  with  an  imposing  entourage  of  de- 
stroyers, torpedo-boats,  and  mine-sweepers,  they 
paraded  into  Erenkoi  Bay  at  11  a.m.  They  limped 
out  again  at  five  in  the  afternoon  without  the 
Bouvet,  Irresistible,  and  Ocean,  and  two  smaller 
vessels.  Five  of  their  line  ships  had  been  dis- 
abled. The  super-<lreadnaught  cruiser.  Queen  Eliza- 
beth, terror  of  the  Dardanelles  gunners,  was  worsted 
by  the  Turkish  howitzers  and  hobbled  out  of  action 
as  l^est  she  might. 

But  between  the  arrival  and  departure  of  the 
Allied  fleet  lies  a  day  that  would  give  new  shivers 
even  to  a  Dante.  What  can  Inferno  be  to  any  of  us 
after  yesterday? 

It  all  hapj>ened  In  this  manner: 

F.  Swing  was  to  meet  me  at  the  little  cafe  in  the 


WHEN   THE  ALLIED   FLEET   FOOZLED 

rue  Saat  Hissarlik  at  11  a.m.  Fuad  Rechad  was  to 
do  the  same  thing. 

It  was  our  intention  to  finally  pay  Djevad  Pasha, 
commander  of  the  Dardanelles  defenses,  that  long- 
delayed  oflScial  visit.  We  had  postponed  that  call 
for  the  reason  that  the  pasha  has  selected  a  most 
outlandish  site  for  his  headquarters — a  little  build- 
ing near  the  top  of  a  high  mountain.  Some  say 
that  he  has  done  this  to  have  a  free  view  at  all 
times  of  the  strait  he  defends;  others  say  that  his 
motive  is  to  get  away  from  the  Germans. 

My  friend  showed  up  promptly — to  report  that 
he  had  found  Fuad  Rechad  in  the  act  of  shaving. 
The  bey  would  be  with  us  in  about  twenty  min- 
utes, said  F.  Swing,  as  he  sat  down  to  have  a  glass 
of  tea. 

It  was  a  perfect  day  in  spring,  and  I  remarked 
that  it  would  be  a  shame  to  waste  it  in  climbing 
up  that  mountain  when  the  willows  along  the 
Rhodios  River  were  so  inviting. 

"W^ell,  old  top,"  came  Swing's  casual  remark, 
"you  are  right  again.  But  what  can  we  do.?^  We 
have  been  here  almost  three  weeks  and  haven't 
paid  our  respects  to  the  chief  guy  of  this  layout. 
First  thing  you  know  he  will  suspect  us  of  standing 
in  too  close  with  the  Germans  here.  That  would 
be  fatal  to  our"  .  .  . 

Zow — whommp ! 

Swing  stopped  there  and  then. 

The  two  of  us  began  to  stare  around  wildly. 

What  the  dickens  was  that — double  explosion? 

I  looked  around  in  time  to  see  several  wooden 
houses  go  in  the  air  almost  bodily.  Up  there  they 
9  127 


FROM    IJKRI.IN   TO   BAGDAD 

rcsU'd  a  hil  on  lli(>  |)rossiir(^  of  []\v  explosion  that 
had  slartotl  tluMii;  tluMi  llicy  divulcd  into  parts. 

Tlio  roof  tilos  Ix'^an  to  rain  down  around  us. 
Swing  and  1  jumped  un<l(M"  llio  protecting  branches 
of  tlie  tree.  The  ccijaiji  gatliered  in  his  long,  white 
ai>ron  and  nuide  for  tlie  door  of  his  shop.  Fuad 
Kechad  was  coming  around  the  street  corner  with 
his  arms  over  his  face. 

It  took  a  seemingly  interminable  time  before  the 
rain  of  brick  subsided.  Swing  dodged  a  huge  tile 
that  was  making  for  his  head.  A  piece  of  a  tile 
struck  me  in  the  back.  Fuad  Rechad  could  not 
be  seen  for  a  moment  in  the  cloud  of  pulverized 
stucco  that  was  coming  down  around  him.  For  a 
moment  he  stood  still  and  then  made  a  wild  dash 
for  the  tree. 

"What's  the  matter.^"  he  gasped. 

I  looked  at  the  place  where  the  houses  had  been 
and  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

"Bom  -  bom  -  bom  -  bombardment!"  said  Swing. 
"  Should-should  say  so." 

"We  should!"  I  said. 

"What  are  we  going  to  do.'*"  was  the  next  ques- 
tion. 

I  didn't  know. 

There  was  an  ominous  silence  now.  Through  it 
grated  the  noise  of  the  iron  roll  shutters  of  the  few 
shops  that  had  been  opened  since  March  7th.  I 
Cciught  sight  of  the  boss  of  a  camel-train  moving 
down  the  rue  Saat  Ilissarlik.  The  man  seemed  in 
a  hurry;  not  so  the  camels  and  the  little  donkey 
that  was  leading  them. 

The  cafcdji  was  straining  away  at  his  own  shut- 

128 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED   FLEET  FOOZLED 

ters.  I  really  don't  know  why  he  wanted  to  close 
them.  They  would  not  keep  the  shells  out  of  his 
shop. 

'^ Bordchum  ne  kedar!"  I  shouted,  being  anxious 
to  pay  my  bill.  The  man  might  never  get  the  few 
paras  I  owed  him  if  he  did  not  collect  them  forth- 
with. 

But  the  cafedji  was  not  interested  in  money,  I 
threw  the  required  number  of  paras  on  the  table, 
and  then  started  off — up  the  Street  of  the  Clock 
Tower. 

Shells  were  still  coming  in.  But  they  were  not 
close  enough  to  worry  us.  The  bombardment 
seemed  to  have  drifted  to  another  part  of  the  strait. 
I  concluded  that  the  British  had  fired  that  turret 
to  give  the  j)eople  of  the  town  warning  that  it  was 
time  to  move. 

At  the  gate  to  the  barrack-yard  north  of  Fort 
Tchemenlik  I  suggested  that  for  the  time  being  we 
seek  shelter  under  the  traverse  of  the  battery. 
That  advice  was  well  received  by  my  friends. 

On  the  way  there  we  called  at  the  telegraph  and 
telephone  central  near  the  administration  build- 
ing to  see  what  was  going  on.  The  operators  did 
not  know  yet.  The  shells  that  had  landed  in  town 
had  been  thrown  by  a  large  ship  lying  directly  in 
the  entrance.  But  there  was  much  smoke  behind 
Cape  Eski-Hissarlik.  The  Allies  were  coming  in 
force. 

The  bombardment  was  now  down  the  bay — 
Dardanos  and  Erenkoi,  no  doubt. 

I  suggested  going  to  the  tower.  Swing  almost 
fainted  when  he  heard  that.    He  doubted  my  sanity. 

129 


FROAI   BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

Fuad,  poor  boy,  plontlcd  with  his  eyes  tliat  I  was 
not  to  atlonipt  sueli  a  foolhardy  move. 

"But  we  can't  see  a  tiling  from  here,"  I  protested. 
"We  can't  miss  this." 

INIy  suggestion  that  we  go  to  the  old  breakwater 
was  iK^tter  iH'ceived.  If  things  grew  too  hot  there 
we  could  always  dart  behind  the  battery  traverse 
and  wait  for  better  times. 

As  we  walked  toward  the  water's  edge,  I  saw 
that  the  shell  warning  had  been  effective. 

A  great  crowd  of  men,  women,  and  children, 
accompanied  by  donkeys,  goats,  and  dogs,  was 
streaming  down  Clock  Tower  Street.  Just  then 
two  shells  crashed  into  the  bazaar  quarter,  adding  to 
the  spt^nl  of  the  refugees.  Two  more  of  tliem  came. 
One  of  them  took  off  the  upper  part  of  a  minaret, 
as  far  as  the  balcony.  That  also  helped  the  crowd 
to  find  its  legs. 

The  bombardment  was  already  very  active.  It 
seemed  that  the  Allies  were  really  coming  in  force. 
Most  of  the  shells  were  striking  far  away,  but  they 
came  in  such  salvos  that  no  other  conclusion  was 
possible. 

But  I  had  trouble  believing  my  eyes  when  I  got 
to  the  old  sea-wall  and  began  to  survey  the  bay  with 
my  glasses.  I  counted  nine  ships  of  the  line.  They 
were  just  going  into  milling  position.  Back  of  the 
nine  were  others.  The  smoke  prevented  my  count- 
ing them.  The  ships  were  on  a  level  with  my  eyes 
and  formed  a  solid  wall  of  steel.  Their  super- 
structures were  hidden  in  a  dense  cloud  of  smoke 
and  powder  fumes. 

Turkish  shells  were  already  exploding  among  the 

130 


WHEN   THE  ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

ships.  Great  water  columns  danced  about  like 
mad.  Forts  Rumeli  Medjidieh,  Dardanos,  and 
the  battery  at  Erenkoi  seemed  to  be  in  a  frantic 
hurry  about  something.  The  howitzers  on  the 
Anatolian  and  Gallipolian  hills  were  also  much 
excited. 

"That  looks  ugly,"  remarked  Friend  Swing, 
with  a  mixture  of  frown  and  dismay  on  his  face. 
"How  many  can  you  see.?" 

I  trained  my  glasses  again  and  counted.  Nine 
of  the  ships  were  in  position  just  then.  Behind 
them  appeared  a  forest  of  funnels  and  masts. 
Above  them  a  smoke  signal  appeared  as  I  looked 
— a  ring  with  a  globe  in  it. 

That  signal  seemed  to  break  up  the  tangle.  The 
line  shifted  toward  the  middle  of  the  bay,  and 
gradually  dissolved — into  another  nine  ships.  That 
made  eighteen  ships  of  the  line.  In  the  entrance 
hovered  the  Queen  Elizabeth  belching  fire  and 
smoke  like  an  engine  made  expressly  for  that 
purpose. 

F.  Swing  had  also  counted.  He,  too,  made  it 
nineteen. 

"Well,  old  top,"  he  remarked,  dryly,  without 
taking  his  field-glass  from  the  scene,  "it's  all 
over!    The  Turks  won't  stand  that,  of  course." 

This  seemed  reasonable  even  to  Fuad. 

"Our  batteries  are  not  equal  to  that,"  he  re- 
marked, mournfully.  "That  is  the  end  of  us." 
With  that  he  let  his  hands  fall  to  his  side,  like  a 
man  who  knows  that  all  is  lost. 

I  cheered  the  boy  up  as  best  I  could.  There  was 
the  mine-field.    That  might  help. 

131 


FROM    BERLIN    TO    BAGDAD 

Tlie  'riirkisli  (ire  li;i<l  iiol  I;isI«mI  long.  Was  it 
possil)l(>  lii;:!  Ilir  nun  in  llu>  l)a.lteries  along  the 
bay  were  as  (Innilonndod  as  wt'  wore?  The  Bril- 
ish  and  FroiU'li  ships,  loo,  wore  silent  for  a  few 
niinnfes. 

■"I'o  our  lefl,  on  the  ])arapet  of  Tehemenlik,  two 
Tnrkish  oflietM's  were  talking  exeiledly.  The  man 
behind  the  range-finder  was  telling  his  comrade 
what  the  strong  glass  showed  him. 

Well,  the  actors  of  the  great  spectacle  were 
marching  up.  It  would  be  a  case  of  thumbs  down 
throughout  the  day.  No  mercy  would  be  shown 
and  none  ex])ected. 

The  Allies  were  ready  for  the  clean-up — the  coup 
dc  grace.  The  large  ships  were  attended  by  all 
the  craft  one  needs  to  steam  on  hostile  waters — 
cruisers,  destroyers,  torpedo  -  boats,  and  mine- 
sweepers.    They  meant  business  this  time. 

The  first  salvo  from  nineteen  turrets  hit  various 
points  along  the  Dardanelles  like  a  tornado,  as 
you  might  put  it,  though  I  am  sure  that  a  tornado 
is  but  a  pitifid  imitation  of  the  effect  produced  by 
the  forty-odd  shells  that  crashed  almost  simul- 
tiineously. 

I  thought  that  the  earth  would  be  torn  asunder. 

A  dozen  of  the  shells  went  over  our  heads  and 
mowed  down  the  first  row  of  houses  behind  the 
administration  building  of  Fort  Tehemenlik.  Whole 
floors,  entire  walls,  doors,  furniture,  and  several 
human  bodies,  were  hurled  high  in  the  air.  The 
sight  was  sickening. 

An  awe-inspiring  stillness  fell  over  the  land- 
scape after  this  salvo.     It  was  pierced,  presently, 

1:32 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

by  the  crash  of  a  collapsing  house.  Then  it  was 
stiller  yet.  The  voices  of  the  oflScers  on  the  para- 
pet could  be  plainly  heard,  as  also  the  gentle 
lapping  of  the  water  against  the  sea-wall.  Some 
birds,  thoroughly  frightened,  fluttered  past  us  so 
close  that  we  might  have  caught  them  with  our 
hands. 

Another  salvo  came.  It  was  of  the  same  char- 
acter. Evidently,  the  Allies  were  playing  for  moral 
effect. 

I  was  greatly  interested  in  what  that  effect 
would  be.  I  watched  the  officers  on  the  parapet. 
One  of  them  was  still  behind  the  range-finder. 
He  went  about  his  business  coolly  enough,  I  thought. 
The  other  was  toying  with  the  huge  megaphone 
through  which  he  expected  to  bellow  fire  orders 
shortly.  His  seeming  indifference  maj'  have  been 
simulated.  But  even  if  it  was  not,  I  am  sure  that 
his  heart  was  beating  a  little  faster  than  usual.  I 
know  that  mine  was. 

The  second  salvo  did  as  much  damage  to  the 
town  as  did  the  first.  This  time  the  shells  were 
a  little  higher.  We  could  not  see  the  houses  that 
were  hit,  but  we  saw  their  wreckage  go  up  and 
heard  the  walls  collapse  a  second  later. 

From  the  scene  of  the  first  crash  smoke  was 
now  coming.  Some  soldiers,  with  a  hand-pump 
carried  by  four  of  them,  were  rushing  toward 
the  fire. 

The  Turkish  guns  were  now  silent.  I  surmised 
that  they  fired  at  first  only  because  some  of  the 
Allied  ships,  while  steaming  into  the  bay,  had 
passed  within  range.    I  looked  at  my  watch.    When 

133 


FR(^M    Rl-:Rl,rX  TO  BAGDAD 

tlu'  fn-s(  slirlls  sui|nls<><l  us  lu'ar  I  lie  cafo  il.  was 
11/20;  now  il  was  ll.;5;{. 

"Il  is  likely  \o  he  n  lon^  day,"  I  remarked  to  my 
friends  afler  Fuad  had  ask<Ml  me  wliat  lime  it  was. 

Just  tluMi  a  shell  struck  the  road  that  runs  l)e- 
tween  the  glacis  of  TchenuMilik  ami  the  sliore. 
Tons  of  macadam  started  in  our  direction.  We 
ducked  behind  the  sea-wall  and  let  the  avalanclu' 
pass.  Anotlier  shell  exploded  in  the  shallow  water 
directly  in  front  of  us.  We  were  almost  swept 
off  our  feet  as  the  tons  of  water  descended. 

It  was  now  plain  that  w-e  could  not  remain 
Ix^hind  the  sea-wall.  That  was  clear  also  to  the 
Turkish  oflBcers  on  the  parapet.  They  motioned 
to  us  to  get  behind  the  traverse.  It  was  the  best 
we  could  do  under  the  circumstances. 

But  from  bt^hind  the  traverse  we  could  see 
nothing.    Yet  it  was  our  business  to  see. 

W^ith  that  in  mind  I  crept  up  the  glacis  on  all- 
fours,  with  the  intention  of  joining  the  officers  on 
the  parapet. 

But  they  did  not  want  company  just  then  and 
said  so.  It  was  their  opinion  that  there  would  l:>e 
dead  men  on  that  parajx't  and  in  the  emplacement 
before  long,  and  they  did  not  want  to  have  me 
among  them.  I  protested  that  I  could  not  see 
anything  behind  the  traverse,  and  assured  them 
that  I  did  not  mind  running  a  little  risk.  But  the 
two  men  were  ol)durate.  If  anything  did  happen 
to  me  they  might  be  held  responsible.  I  would 
do  them  a  favor — by  leaving  them. 

So  I  slid  down  the  grassy  sloix;  and  joined  my 
companions  behind  the  traverse. 


WHEN  THE   ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

But  we  were  not  to  stay  there  long.  A  shell  hit 
the  parapet  at  its  junction  with  the  traverse.  Tons 
of  earth  fell  around  us,  and  in  side-stepping  some 
of  that  I  noticed  that  where  I  had  been  a  minute 
ago,  where  the  observation  officers  had  stood,  there 
was  a  large  gash  in  the  gi-eensward. 

I  did  not  have  time  to  make  a  closer  investiga- 
tion. In  that  very  instant  another  shell  struck 
the  old  wall  where  it  joins  the  modern  revet  of 
the  traverse.  A  rock  weighing  half  a  ton  missed 
Swing  by  a  foot  as  it  toppled  over  and  fell. 

Fort  Tchemenlik  was  under  a  very  serious  bom- 
bardment for  the  first  time  and  was  getting  enough 
of  it. 

I  surveyed  the  situation  and  surmised  that  the 
old  tunnel  gate,  with  the  solid  walls  of  kulle  Kaleh 
Sultanieh  between  it  and  the  fire  direction  of  the 
Allies,  would,  for  the  time  being,  give  us  the  best 
cover.  It  was  not  likely  that  both  the  tower  and 
the  old  rampart  would  be  brought  down  at  the 
same  time. 

There  was  no  occasion  to  lose  words. 

"Come!"  I  said  to  my  friends,  and  rushed  off. 

Into  the  court  of  the  battery  shells  were  falling 
thick  and  fast  now.  One  explosion  followed  on 
the  heel  of  another,  and  every  time  the  earth 
trembled  under  us. 

I  looked  up  at  the  old  rampart.  It  was  high. 
There  was  no  telling  when  its  battlemented  crown 
would  come  down  upon  us.  Directly  over  the  tunnel 
gate  stands  a  minaret.    That,  too,  might  tumble. 

A  shell  hit  the  old  rampart  a  little  to  our  left. 
A  rain  of  rock  was  started  by  it.     Some  of  the 

135 


FROM    HKRMN   TO    BAGDAD 

stones  rolKnl  aroiiiul  on  llu'  gi'oiind,  and  a  little 
pnp,  i\n'\\c  nnniindfnl  of  the  things  that  were  going 
on,  l)o»;;an  lo  race  after  them. 

Happy  little  dog! 

I  was  cnrioiis  how  that  yard  behind  me  looked 
now.  Ven'  ging(Mly  T  made  my  way  to  the  far 
entranee  of  the  tunnel  gate  and  i)ee})ed  into  the 
l)attery. 

The  guns  of  Tehemenlik  had  not  yet  fired  a 
single  shot;  it  looked  as  tliough  they  never  wonld. 
The  yard  was  strewn  with  heaps  of  wrecked 
masonry.  Some  fifty  tons  of  this  had  been  torn 
from  one  of  the  corners  of  the  old  tower. 

Where  the  officers  had  been  standing  there  was 
now,  as  seen  from  the  rear,  a  crater  from  which 
the  \VTeck  of  a  brick  wall  protruded.  The  nearby 
gun  was  out  of  action.  Its  ammunition-derriclc 
was  gone.  Over  the  platform  of  the  gun  sprawled 
the  lifeless  form  of  a  man — possibly  one  of  tlie 
officers  who  had  insisted  that  I  should  leave  them. 

A  Turkish  soldier  stumbled  into  my  arms.  I 
don't  know  where  the  man  came  from.  He  was 
covered  with  pulverized  mortar  from  head  to  foot. 
He  seemed  half  stunned. 

He  was  not  wounded,  he  said.  He  had  been 
buried  under  the  debris  in  the  yard  and  had  just 
freed  himself.  Was  I  a  doctor.?  He  had  frightful 
pains  in  his  chest  and  abdomen. 

I  helped  the  man  through  the  tunnel  and  told 
him  that  near  the  far  gate  there  was  a  dressing- 
station.     He  limped  off,  each  step  a  painfid  effort. 

Great  was  our  predicament.     We  were  running 

all  the  risks  without  seeing  anything  at  all  worth 

1:50 


WHEN   THE  ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

while.  Some  observation  post  would  have  to  be 
found.     But  where? 

It  was  Swing  who  thought  of  the  little  hill  on 
which  the  military  hospital  is  located.  From  there 
we  could  get  an  excellent  view  of  the  bay  and  the 
Turkish  batteries. 

Our  minds  were  quickly  made  up,  despite  the 
fact  that  we  had  to  cross  the  northern  yard  of 
Tchemenhk,  into  which  all  the  "high"  shells  for 
the  battery  fell.  The  administration  building  had 
already  been  hit  several  times,  and  before  we 
could  reach  the  gate  all  sorts  of  things  might 
happen. 

Swing  was  off  at  a  pace  that  took  my  breath 
away  presently.  Fuad  was  a  close  second  to  my 
friend. 

When  I  got  to  the  middle  of  the  yard  I  pictured 
to  myself  how  undignified  it  would  be  to  run,  and 
slowed  down.  To  be  known  as  an  ex-soldier  is 
very  awkward  at  times.  Everybody  expects  so 
much  more  from  such  a  person. 

Not  a  single  shell  came  near  us  while  w^e  crossed 
the  yard.  We  had  reached  the  street  in  which  the 
bazaar  stands  before  we  ran  into  trouble. 

That  unfortunate  thoroughfare  was  paying  a 
heavy  price  for  the  miscalculations  in  aim  of  the 
Alhed  oflBcers.  Whatever  went  high  over  Tchem- 
enhk crashed  into  the  street. 

Fifty  paces  away  from  the  intersection  of.  the 
street  with  the  rue  Saat  Hissarlik  another  street 
runs  into  the  bazaar  street  at  a  sharp  angle.  The 
building  occupAing  that  "flatiron"  corner  had  a 
bakeshop  on  the  ground  floor.    As  I  stepped  across 

137 


FROM    HKRLIN    TO   BAGDAD 

iJu"  slrcii  I  rasl  a  look  in  Lliat  direction  lo  see 
wIiolluT  llurr  were  ]H'0]>Ie  around. 

I  saw  HOIK",  willi  llio  exc'e]>lion  of  llio  old  clcmckdjl 
ill  llio  bakery,  lie  was  lakiii^  hread  owl  of  the 
o\eii.  Knowing'  tlie  man  by  sight,  as  a  customer, 
I  wondered  at  liis  gril. 

Hill  1  did  not  wonder  long.  Of  a  sudden  a 
vivid  flash  sprang  from  tlie  large  opening  in  the 
wall  behind  which  the  old  man  w^as  working.  Then 
Ciime  a  deafening  rejxjrl.    'J'Jie  building  sailed  away. 

^Vhen  the  smoke  cleared  tlie  bakery  was  gone. 
Poor  ckmckdji!    He  had  baked  his  last  bread. 

Swing  was  waiting  for  me  in  the  lee  of  a  building 
close  by.  When  he  saw  me  looking  up  the  street 
he  came  back.  He  reached  the  corner  just  as  a 
large  stone  from  the  wrecked  bakery  catai)ulted 
past  the  corner.  INIy  frientl  gave  the  projectile  a 
dazed  look  and  tlien  retreated  again. 

To  go  down  the  rue  Saat  Hissarlik  became  a 
trying  experience.  Above  us  a  roof  took  wings 
presently.  We  stepped  into  a  doorway  until  the 
tiles  had  settled  down.  Just  as  we  ciime  to  the 
little  triangular  i>laza  another  house  near  by  was 
blown  iij).  At  one  side  of  the  clock  tower  lay  a 
dead  civilian. 

Some  of  the  })raver  of  the  townspeople  had  col- 
lected on  the  hillside.  They  seemed  greatly  in- 
terested in  the  terrible  sf)ectacle  which  this  meas- 
uring of  strength  between  battle-ship  and  coast 
battery  oftered. 

That  they  would  be  seen  there  by  the  Allied 
observers,  who  al  thai  range  might  mistake  them 
for  soldiers,  had  not  occurred  to  the  crowd  until 

138 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

a  shell  exploded  a  little  to  the  rear  of  them.  After 
that  they  scampered  off  like  a  nest  of  field-mice. 

There  was  no  cover  on  the  hill.  Swing  thought 
that  we  might  get  some  spades  and  dig  ourselves 
a  trench.  That  would  have  been  the  logical  thing 
to  do.  On  the  other  hand,  we  did  not  have  the 
time  for  it.  The  progress  of  the  action  had  to  be 
carefully  watched.  Then,  too,  the  observers  on 
the  ships  might  see  us  digging,  misunderstand  us, 
and  take  us  under  fire. 

In  the  course  of  our  search  for  some  cover  we  came 
to  a  little  ridge  between  two  fields,  not  more  than 
two  feet  high.    Behind  that  we  took  position. 

Our  observation  post  was  an  excellent  one,  we 
agreed.  It  w^ould  remain  tliat  until  the  battery  of 
Anadolu  Medjidieh,  right  in  front  and  only  two 
hundred  sloping  feet  away  from  us,  should  be  taken 
under  fire.  Since  the  Allies  were  shooting  fright- 
fully "high,"  it  was  a  certainty  that  in  such  an  event 
we  would  get  the  first  shells. 

The  bombardment  was  a  regular  routine  affair 
by  this  time.  The  Allied  ships  distributed  their 
fire  evenly.  It  was  their  intention,  evidently,  to 
wear  down  the  Turks  along  the  entire  outer  strait. 

From  In  Tepeh  to  Tchanak  Kaleh,  on  the  Ana- 
tolian shore;  from  the  heights  south  of  the  Shavan 
Dereh  to  Kilid-il-Balir,  on  the  GalHpoli  shore, 
everything  was  under  fire. 

Earth-geysers  and  water  columns  rose  in  and 
near  every  Turkish  emplacement.  The  noise  was 
ear-splitting.  It  resembled  the  effect  of  a  dozen 
thunder-storms  in  a  pocket  in  the  mountains.  The 
crashes  were  reverberated  from  hillside  to  mountain- 

139 


FROM    HKKMN   TO   BAGDAD 

sido,  slaiiini;  wllli  ilu>  disrorclant  noios  of  a  giant 
Cliineso  ^onu:  :nul  oiuliiij;'  with  a  low  rnnihle. 

Over  Kronkoi  Bay  liuiig  low  a  hank  of  smoke  and 
1>o\V(Kt  fumes.  The  hright  siniliglit  rested  on  the 
loi)  of  this,  leaving'  the  ships  of  the  Allies  in  deep 
l>iiri)le  shadows.  Out  of  this  leaped  the  flames  of 
I  he  propelling  eharj;,'es. 

It  was  a  glorious  s])ectacle — and  an  expensive 
one.  And  Swing  and  I  were  the  only  spectators. 
There  were  others  who  saw  this  thing,  but  they 
had  stakes  in  it.    We  had  not. 

Little  acti\nty  was  being  shown  by  the  Turkish 
emplacements.  Erenkoi  would  fire  a  few  shots  now 
and  then,  and  Dardanos  would  do  the  same.  But 
their  fire  was  short.  The  Turks  were  anxious  to 
get  at  their  tormentors,  but  their  guns  did  not  have 
the  necessary  range. 

The  thing  began  to  look  very  one-sided.  The 
Allies  had  in  the  strait  tliirty-nine  ships  that  could 
hammer  away  at  the  Turks.  Of  the  nineteen 
battle-ships  of  the  line  each  was  as  good,  at  least 
in  armament,  as  any  two  Turkish  forts. 

It  was  hard  to  see,  under  these  circumstances, 
how^  the  Tiu-ks  could  hold  their  own.  Their  em- 
placements might  all  meet  the  fate  of  the  batteries 
at  Kum  Kaleh  and  Sid-il-Bahr.  Even  if  the  Turks 
had  ammunition  enough,  which  I  had  reason  to 
doubt,  they  would  presently  have  no  guns  and  no 
men  to  use  it. 

I  recalled  Napoleon's  saying,  ''Un  canon  sur 
lerre  vaut  dix  sur  mer."  Was  Napoleon  right? 
This  day  would  show  whether  he  was  or  not. 

Presently  we  were  reminded  that  the  Allies  might 

140 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

yet  shell  the  battery  in  front  of  us.  A  projectile 
screeched  past  us  so  low  that  we  felt  the  wind 
currents  it  caused.  A  hundred  feet  behind  us  it 
exploded. 

Our  first  impulse  was  to  find  another  point  of 
observation.  But  there  was  no  place  along  the 
strait  that  might  not  be  taken  under  fire.  We  de- 
cided, therefore,  to  stick  it  out  where  we  were. 

The  Allied  observers,  aerial  and  others,  must 
have  learned  shortly  that  much  of  their  fire  was 
going  to  waste.  It  was  not  so  much  a  question  of 
inaccuracy  of  aim  as  it  was  one  of  pointing  errors 
multiplying  with  distance.  To  overcome  that  the 
line  ships  presently  came  in  closer. 

By  1.45  P.M.  they  had  materially  lessened  the 
distance  between  themselves  and  the  Turkish  bat- 
teries. I  was  much  interested  in  finding  out  what 
effect  this  would  have  on  the  emplacements. 

The  effect  was  very  good  for  the  Allies  and  very 
bad  for  the  Turks. 

Fort  Anadolu  Hamidieh,  every  gun  of  which  I 
could  plainly  see,  was  being  raked  in  a  terrible 
manner.  The  Allied  shells  were  exploding  now  on 
the  parapet  and  traverses.  The  yard  of  the  em- 
placement was  being  turned  upside  down.  One 
earth-geyser  rose  beside  the  other.  The  barracks 
were  completely  down. 

As  the  Allied  ships  drew  nearer,  the  guns  of 
Dardanos,  Erenkoi,  and  the  howitzer  emplace- 
ments above  the  Shavan  Dereh,  got  their  range. 
For  the  next  ten  minutes  both  sides  were  pumping 
shells  as  fast  as  the  pieces  could  be  served. 

I  was  watching  events  on  the  right  flank  of  the 

141 


FROM    HKUI-IN   TO    lUCDAI) 

Allird  flcfl.  Fund  those  on  [\\c  lofl.    Swing  liad  the 
coiitor. 

"She's  IxHMi  liil !  She's  been  hit!"  shouted  Swing, 
siuUlenly. 

""Which  oiicy'^  I  :iske<!,  (>;igerly. 

"The  one  willi  tlie  heavy  suiKTsiriK-liiro!"  cried 
my  friend.  "Look  a  HUle  to  ihc  right  of  the  acacia- 
I  ree. 

I  di<l  as  (h'rec'led. 

One  oi"  the  Fr<Mu]i  sliips  was  showing  a  heavy 
Hsl.  She  was  still  going  ahead,  as  the  water  at 
her  bow  indicated.  As  I  watched  her  the  stern 
went  down  until  it  se<'nied  to  be  awash. 

Four  flashes  from  Fort  Anadolu  Haniidieh  an- 
nounced just  then  that  the  large  battery  in  that 
emplacement  was  at  work.  The  secondary  bat- 
teries also  joined  in.  Ilamidieh  was  going  to  sink 
that  vessel,  if  it  could  be  done. 

It  was  then  two  minutes  of  two  o'clock. 

The  fate  of  that  ship  interested  me.  She  lay 
in  an  iridescent  patch  of  water.  It  seemed  now 
that  her  stern  was  up  again.  I  looked  for  the  foam 
at  her  bow,  but  saw  only  ripj^les.  Presently  <'ven 
these  disappeared.  The  shells  from  Fort  Haniidieh 
were  raising  water  columns  all  about  the  vessel. 

Suddenly  a  red  sheaf  of  flame  appeared  above 
the  ship.     She  had  been  struck  by  a  shell. 

An  instant  later  her  deck  opened.  An  intense 
flame  shot  up — far  above  the  mastheads. 

The  flash  cooled  into  red  and  then  changed  into 
a  dense  cloud  of  smoke  and  steam. 

When  my  sense  of  perception  registered  again  the 
ship  had  turned  over.    In  another  instant  she  was 


WHEN   THE  ALLIED   FLEET  FOOZLED 

no  more  than  a  flat,  black  thing  in  the  water.  That, 
too,  vanished — swiftly. 

It  was  two  o'clock  exactly. 

Some  nine  hundred  lives  had  been  snuffed  out. 

The  Allied  ships  had  ceased  firing  now.  The 
Turkish  guns  also  were  mute.  Everywhere  in  the 
Turkish  emplacements  men  jumped  to  the  parapets 
and  traverses.  And  then  rang  out  a  great  cheer. 
The  Turks  had  drawn  first  blood  and  seemed  to 
enjoy  it. 

When  the  Bouvet  was  first  hit  some  smaller 
craft  had  rushed  forward  to  be  of  assistance  to  her 
crew.  From  them  boats  were  now  being  lowered. 
The  wet  oars  flashed  in  the  bright  sun  like  things  of 
burnished  steel. 

W^here  the  ship  had  gone  down  some  dark  objects 
were  floating.  Whether  they  were  wreckage  or 
men  I  could  not  determine.  At  any  rate,  the  boats 
were  not  out  long.  I  understand  that  about  a 
dozen  men  of  the  Bouvefs  complement  of  900  were 
saved. 

The  loss  of  the  Bouvet  seemed  to  have  angered 
the  Allies. 

When  next  they  took  up  the  fire  it  had  in  it  all 
the  intensity  and  impotency  of  rage.  The  shells 
came  thick  and  fast,  but  fell  wide  of  the  mark. 
Some  of  them  fell  into  the  middle  of  the  strait  be- 
tween Tchanak  Kaleh  and  Kilid-il-Bahr.  Many 
more  crashed  into  the  Greek  and  Armenian  quarter 
of  the  former  place. 

By  three  o'clock  the  bombardment  was  back  in 
its  old  rut. 

The  Allied  commander  kept  his  ships  close  to 

10  143 


FROM    liKRMN   TO    BAGDAD 

Iho  Turkish  hallcrios  now.  Halt'  a  day  had  been 
lost  ill  bomhardiny:  from  loo  groat  a  ranf,^^ 

Hut  to  slay  in  dose  had  its  shorlcoinings.  Tlie 
Turks  wore  K«^'tting  imuiy  full  hits.  At  3.40  p.m. 
four  of  the  Allied  ships  had  been  badly  hannnered. 
They  showed  lists,  and  two  of  them  were  blowing 
ofl'  steam.  One  of  the  others  had  lost  much  of  her 
sui)erstruetnre  and  one  of  her  masts  was  down 

I  noticed  that  there  was  no  longer  much  ginger 
in  the  efforts  of  the  Allies.  The  firing  was  poorer 
now  than  I  had  ever  seen  it. 

Most  of  the  shells  inlended  for  Fort  Anadolu 
Ilamidieh  were  from  1,^200  to  3,500  yards  too  "high  " 
— that  is  to  say,  the  shells  went  that  much  too 
far.  In  that  manner  much  of  the  Greek  and 
Armenian  quarter  of  Tchanak  Kaleh  had  been 
brought  down.  The  quarter  was  now  burning. 
Kilid-il-Bahr,  too,  was  again  afire. 

When  about  four  o'clock  the  fire  of  the  AlHes 
became  entirely  a  waste  of  ammunition.  Swing, 
Fuad,  and  I  decided  to  have  tea.  It  was  out  of 
the  question  now  that  the  Allies  could  do  any 
more  to-day  tlum  retire  wlien  the  light  became 
I>oor. 

After  tea  the  three  of  us  intended  to  return  to 
Fort  Tchemenlik  and  mount  to  the  tower  platform 
for  a  final  survey  before  writing  our  despatches. 
But  the  yard  was  so  full  of  debris  that  we  decided 
to  go  to  the  old  sea-wall  and  do  our  observing  from 
there. 

Before  long  I  was  to  see  an  odd  spectacle  there. 

Some  of  the  Allied  cruisers  were  towing  away 
disabled  hne  ships.    Three  of  them  were  just  passing 

144 


WHEN  THE   ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

out  of  the  entrance,  beyond  which  I  could  still 
see  the  retiring  battle-ships  that  were  under  their 
own  steam. 

In  the  Bay  of  Erenkoi  were  still  two  line  ships, 
however.  They  were  riding  on  an  even  keel,  one 
of  them  in  front  of  the  Mendereh  mouth  and  the 
other  near  Cape  Eski-Hissarlik.  A  number  of 
small  craft  were  standing  by  the  latter.  The  other 
seemed  able  to  take  care  of  herself. 

I  asked  a  Turkish  observation  oflScer  on  the 
traverse  of  Tchemenlik  what  the  ship  to  the  left 
was  doing.  She  had  been  abandoned,  he  said,  vol- 
unteering also  the  information  that  the  other  ship 
was  in  tow,  but  hard  to  manage. 

Meanwhile,  the  ship  on  the  left  appeared  to  move. 
From  her  funnel  came  the  merest  suspicion  of 
smoke.  There  was  no  foam  at  her  bow.  She 
seemed  to  drift.  She  was  coming  toward  the 
Turkish  batteries  on  the  back  of  the  counter-cur- 
rent that  sweeps  north  along  the  Anatolian  shore. 

The  sun  was  now  setting  behind  the  high  hills 
of  Gallipoli.  It  left  the  hillsides  of  the  peninsula 
in  a  deep-purple  gloom,  but  lit  up  the  Anatolian 
slopes  and  the  helpless  line  ship  in  fine  manner. 

Suddenly  the  battery  of  Rumeli  Medjidieh  came 
to  life.  I  saw  the  long  streamer  of  flame  of  the 
propelling  charge  and  then  directed  my  glass  upon 
the  ship.  A  strange  thing  happened.  The  shell 
hit  the  ship  full  amidship.  The  sheaf  of  sparks  an- 
nounced that  eloquently. 

Again  the  gun  in  the  shadow  fired.  This  time 
its  shell  fell  short.  The  third  shell  crashed  into 
the  superstructure  of  the  ship. 

145 


FRO^[  BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

It  soimiumI  for  a  wliilc  after  tliat  as  if  the  ship 
were  returning  the  fire.     Fhishes  came  from  her. 

But  ill  that  conclusion  we  were  wrong,  as  the 
Turkisli  ofliccr  on  the  traverse  informed  us.  Fort. 
Dardanos  liad  taken  the  shi]>  under  fire  and  was 
shcing  her  to  ])icces  now.  Of  twenty-five  sliells 
sixteen  took  full  cfTect.  Then  the  Irresistible 
turmxl  turtle  and  went  down. 

Later  we  learned  that  tlie  Ocean,  the  sliip  on 
our  rigid,  had  sunk  in  deep  water  in  Morto  Bay. 

Swing  and  I  went  to  the  Hotel  Stamboul  to 
wTite  our  despatches.  It  took  several  copious 
draughts  of  sharrap  to  tide  us  over  the  fearful  head- 
ache we  now  discovered  we  were  suffering.  We 
had  been  living  in  a  hell  all  day  long  and  now  we 
had  to  sit  down  and  describe  it. 

War  correspondence  is  not  the  easiest  way  of 
making  a  living. 

There  was  no  time  to  think  of  eating.  Swing 
and  I  wrote  away  like  mad,  and  then  started  in, 
by  the  light  of  burning  Tchanak  Kaleh  and  Kilid- 
il-Bahr,  to  find  the  censors.  But  they  had  left 
town  in  tlie  morning.  They  also  had  taken  with 
them  the  telegraph-office. 

Here  was  a  fine  state  of  affairs.  In  the  end  we 
decided  to  look  up  Merten  Pasha  at  his  headquar- 
ters in  the  Calvert  villa,  town  house  of  an  Anglo- 
American  family  owning  a  great  deal  of  property 
along  the  Dardanelles. 

But  Mert?n  Pasha  had  already  retired. 

Well,  Major  Schneider  was  nice  about  it  this 
time.  He  offered  to  see  the  pasha  for  us.  When  he 
came   down-stairs  again  he  said   that   the   "old" 

14G 


^HEN  THE  ALLIED   FLEET  FOOZLED 

man  was  none  too  pleased  with  having  been  dis- 
turbed. I  told  Swing  it  would  be  best  if  I  went  up 
alone.     I  would  get  his  despatch  visaed. 

Merten  Pasha  found  it  a  little  hard  to  be  as  con- 
genial as  he  usually  is.  No  doubt  he  was  tired. 
He  blinked  at  the  papers  in  his  hand,  but  found 
it  hard  to  read.  The  strain  of  the  day  had  been 
great  and  the  light  of  the  lamp  was  poor. 

"Tell  me  what  you  have  written  there!"  he 
said,  presently.  I  told  him.  Then  he  signed 
his  name  to  the  despatches  and  returned  them. 

"I  will  have  to  walk  three  miles  to-night  to  get 
these  things  on  the  wire,"  I  said,  with  the  intention 
of  starting  a  conversation. 

I  succeeded. 

"Well,  if  you  can  still  walk  three  miles  to-night, 
I  should  be  able  to  read  these  things  over,"  he  said, 
with  a  smile.    "But  it  is  all  right.    Let  them  go!" 

"What  is  the  outlook  for  to-morrow,  Pasha?" 
I  asked. 

The  artillery  expert  thought  it  over. 

"Not  so  very  good — to  be  frank  with  you,"  he 
replied. 

"Not  so  very  good.^*" 

"No!" 

"What  is  the  matter.?"" 

"That  I  can't  tell  you,  of  course,"  replied  Merten 
Pasha.  "At  any  rate,  it  '11  go  bad  with  us  if  the 
Allies  return  to-morrow.  They  have  lost  heavily 
to-day,  to  be  sure.  But  I  think  I  know  the  British 
well  enough  to  feel  that  they  will  be  back  here 
bright  and  early.  If  you  have  anything  around 
here  you  wisli  to  save,  take  my  advice  and  pack 

147 


FROM    HKHMN    TO    BAGDAD 

it  Io-iukIiL  Bo  reiidy  to  get  out  of  here  early  in 
the  inorning." 

Swiii;,'  and  I  trolled  ofT  to  I  lie  ielegraph-slation. 
Shortly  after  midnight  we  were  baek  in  town. 

By  that  time  we  were  ready  to  eat  anything.  But 
it  was  too  late  to  go  to  a  eookshoj).  So  I  roused 
the  poor  kamorotc  and  had  him  start  a  mangal. 
As  luck  would  have  it,  we  had  a  piece  of  meat  handy, 
having  recently  done  a  little  cooking  ourselves. 

By  one  o'clock  we  had  put  away  a  good  meal, 
and  then  we  turned  in  for  some  sleep. 

The  kamorotc  called  us  at  six  this  morning.  To 
get  our  eyes  open  was  quite  a  task.  But  the 
tchai  and  yamourtalar — tea  and  boiled  eggs — had 
a  strong  appeal. 

After  breakfast  I  surveyed  the  entrance  of  the 
strait  from  a  jetty  in  front  of  the  hotel.  No  ships 
were  in  sight.  At  eight  we  were  in  Fort  Tchem- 
enlik.  But  the  danger  flag,  a  white  field  with  three 
red  disks  in  it,  was  not  up. 

Nine  o'clock  came  and  still  no  Allies.  At  ten  no 
smoke  even  could  be  seen  beliind  Tenedos.  The 
same  state  of  affairs  prevailed  at  eleven.  Noon  came 
and  the  coast  was  still  clear.  The  afternoon  passed 
and  all  was  well.     But  they  may  come  to-morrow. 

March  21st. 

Still  no  Allies! 

Swing  and  I  have  been  making  the  rounds  of 
the  Turkish  emi)lacements  the  last  three  days. 
The  damage  done  by  the  bombardment  of  four 
days  ago  is  hardly  what  I  had  expected. 

Fort   Dardanos   has   had   a   miraculous   escape. 

148 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED   FLEET  FOOZLED 

There  is  a  small  dent  in  Turret  No.  1.  Turret  No. 
3  was  struck  by  a  shell  fragment  near  the  gun- 
port.  As  a  result  of  that  the  gim  could  no  longer 
be  elevated  or  lowered.  But  a  little  work  with  a 
steel  saw  fixed  that.  No.  5  turret  is  slightly  dam- 
aged near  the  base. 

In  Fort  Rumeli  Medjidieh  two  guns  are  tempo- 
rarily out  of  action.  In  Rumeli  Hamidieh  a  gun 
is  dismounted.  Fort  Tchemenlik  mourns  the  tem- 
porary loss  of  a  gun.  One  of  the  casemates  there 
was  demolished.  In  Anadolu  Hamidieh  a  35.5- 
cm.  has  been  torn  from  its  anchorage  and  its  car- 
riage has  also  been  badly  mauled.  Here,  too,  a 
casemate  caved  in. 

The  most  remarkable  thing  is  the  Turkish  list 
of  casualties — twenty-three  Turks  and  Germans 
dead,  and  seventy-eight  wounded.  Many  of  these 
are  civilians. 

Considering  that  the  Allies  employed  in  the 
bombardment  276  guns  larger  than  six  inches  this 
is  not  much  of  a  showing.  According  to  the  Turks 
and  Germans,  the  Allies  used  over  8,500  shells 
larger  than  six  inches.  It  seems  that  a  six-inch 
shell  does  not  count  any  more  nowadays. 

But  the  Allies  are  still  expected  back.  Every 
parapet  and  traverse  along  the  strait  has  been,  or 
is  being,  overlaid  with  an  additional  ten  feet  of 
sand.  That  will  make  them  entirely  impenetrable. 
Even  the  old  covering  was  perforated  in  only  two 
instances  on  March  18th,  and  in  each  case,  as 
I  was  able  to  establish  myself,  the  shells  had  gone 
through  near  the  mouth  of  the  emplacement,  where 
the  covering  is  none  too  thick. 

149 


FROM    BKRT-I\   TO   RAC^OAO 

N«'NV  ^iiii'^  arc  ari-i\iii^'  «'V<'r.v  <l:iy.  Thoy  are 
Ix'in^'  oarlc«l  in  the  (liri'ctioii  ol'  Mrenkoi  and  to  tlic 
Sliavau  DtTcli.  'Vhc  ^iiiis  coiiio  from  Ailriaiioplo, 
1  loariicd.  Tlu-  Turks  iiiiist  be  very  sure  ol'  the 
Bulbars  to  do  that. 

ISIore  aniinunilioii  is  also  arrlviiifC-  But  it,  is 
not  the  ri^'hl  sort  ol'  anmuinilion.  It  can  he  used 
against  the  deck  of  the  ships  by  high-angle  guns. 
As  the  (^inrn  Klizahcth  has  discovered,  that  is  not 
so  harmless  a  i>aslime.  Five  hits  from  the  howitz- 
ers j)ul  her  out  of  action. 

The  shells  must  have  gone  down  lier  funnels, 
since  her  tleck  is  said  to  be  well  protectetl  by  armor. 

March  30th. 

The  Allies  seem  to  have  lost  all  interest  in  the 
Dardanelles.  Their  ships  have  gone  to  parts  un- 
known. A  few  of  the  older  tubs  have  stayed,  how- 
ever, and  day  before  .^-esterday  they  came  to  tlu^ 
entrance  and  y>epi)ered  something  on  the  heights 
behind  Kum  Kaleh.  It  may  liave  been  one  of  the 
camps  of  the  Ottoman  Eleventh  Division.  At  best 
the  thing  was  no  more  than  a  demonstration. 
Swing  and  I  watched  it  from  the  platform  of  the 
old  tower. 

Life  in  a  bombarded  town  is  not  altogether 
pleasant.     Everything  still  smells  of  dead  fire. 

Of  inhabitants  only  the  dogs  and  cats  are  left. 
Poor  things!  Nol)ody  feeds  them  and  soon  they 
will  have  to  either  migrate  or  eat  one  another, 
as  they  did  on  a  certain  barren  island  in  the  Sea 
of  Marmora,  when  the  Turks  decided  to  clean  up 
Const  ant  inoj)le. 

150 


WHEN  THE  ALLIED  FLEET  FOOZLED 

The  cafe  in  the  rue  Saat.  HIssarlik  is  again  doing 
business.  Swing,  Fuad,  and  I  spend  our  days  under 
the  elm-tree,  which  is  now  finely  furnished  with 
foliage. 

The  big  bombardment  is  still  the  stuff  of  con- 
versation. So  are  certain  developments  on  Gal- 
lipoli. 

The  men  in  Stamboul  think  that  the  Allies  will 
try  a  landing  there  next.  In  fact,  there  are  rumors 
that  troops  for  that  purpose  are  even  now  being 
concentrated.  Egypt  is  said  to  be  crowded  with 
Australian  troops.  On  Cyprus  they  have  more  of 
them.  In  Malta  they  are  also  being  concentrated, 
and  even  the  Island  of  Imbros  is  said  to  have  a 
camp. 

The  Turks  have  not  wholly  disregarded  that. 

Liman  von  Sanders  Pasha,  head  of  the  German 
military  mission  to  Turkey,  has  been  placed  in 
command  of  the  troops  on  Gallipoli.  He  arrived 
at  the  town  of  Gallipoli  on  the  26th,  and  is  now 
busy  putting  his  troops  and  headquarters  in  shape. 

But  for  the  time  being  there  is  no  reason  why 
Friend  Swing  and  I  should  stay  longer  at  the  Dar- 
danelles. We  will  take  a  look  at  Pera  and  make 
interviews.  For  one  of  them,  an  audience  with  the 
Sultan,  we  have  laid  the  rails  already.  To-morrow 
we  will  start  our  farewell  visits.  How  good  a 
decent  room  with  "bawth,"  as  Swing  pronounces 
it,  will  look  to  us! 

By  the  way.  Swing  has  ruined  his  fine  fur  coat. 
But  he  says  the  story  was  worth  it. 


V 

AN    AUDIENCE   WITH    THE    SULTAN 


THE  Ottoman  government  had  not  been  un- 
mindful of  the  dangers  that  threatened  the 
eapital.  On  ]March  18th,  the  records  and  treasure 
were  packed  and  special  trains  were  held  ready 
to  convey  them  to  Eski-Shehir  in  Anatolia,  the 
capital  of  the  Osmanli  before  they  settled  in 
Europe. 

On  the  following  day,  when  the  situation  was 
better  understood,  some  of  the  records  were  taken 
to  a  freight-shed  in  Haidar  Pasha,  the  terminal  of 
the  Anatolian  railroad,  and  on  the  same  day  the 
household  of  the  Sultan  was  mobilized.  It  was 
feared  that  the  Allied  fleet  would  renew  the  attack 
on  the  Dardanelles  coast  batteries  at  least  on  the 
20th  of  March,  or  shortly  thereafter.  We,  at  the 
straits,  had  been  under  the  same  impression,  as  I 
have  already  related. 

But  with  the  uneventful  lapse  of  days  reassur- 
ance returned  to  the  men  in  Stamboul.  At  first 
loath  to  believe  that  the  Allied  fleet  would  not  fol- 
low up  its  advantages,  the  Ottoman  government 
little  b}'  little  began  to  see  why  it  would  be  con- 

152 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

sidered  imprudent  just  now  in  London  and  Paris 
to  sacrifice  more  ships  at  the  Dardanelles. 

The  Ottoman  military  and  naval  leaders  were 
under  the  impression  that  the  lack  of  ammunition 
in  the  Dardanelles  batteries  was  known  to  the 
Allied  fleet  commanders.  That  belief  was  reason- 
able enough.  The  administration  of  the  Ottoman 
coast-defense  system  had  been  in  the  hands  of  the 
British  Naval  Commission  to  Turkey,  and  the 
British  artillery  experts  in  the  commission  could 
not  help  knowing  how  much  ammunition  there 
was  along  the  strait.  The  commission,  in  fact, 
had  bought  most  of  it. 

What  shells  the  Turks  had  used  during  the  bom- 
bardment was  known  to  the  Allied  fleet  commander, 
or  should  have  been  known.  All  he  had  to  do  was 
to  detail  an  officer  or  two  to  keep  tally.  Whether  or 
not  this  was  done  I  have  no  means  of  knowing. 
One  thing  alone  is  certain:  Had  the  Allied  com- 
mander realized  what  conditions  in  the  Turkish 
emplacements  were  he  would  have  returned  and 
finished  his  task. 

I  have  good  reasons  to  believe  that  the  Entente 
governments  had  permitted  themselves  to  be  fooled 
by  their  own  "intelligence"  men  in  the  Balkans. 
These  agents  were  over-zealous  in  many  respects, 
especially  in  matters  affecting  alleged  shipments  of 
ammunition  into  Turkey. 

That  some  contraband  slipped  through  Rumania 
and  Bulgaria  is  possible.  At  any  rate,  this  claim 
was  being  made  with  great  persistence  and,  at 
times,  unseemly  impetuousness.  But  that  Ger- 
many   succeeded    in    getting    to    the    Dardanelles 

153 


F1U)M    IU:K.1,IN    to    15.V(il>Al) 

"hliio-lioad"  .shells,  or  lar^o  shells  of  any  class, 
is  not  true.  The  Bratianu  f^ovcrnnionl  in  Rumania 
liad  1h(mi  lt)o  eager  to  join  Iho  Entente  in  the 
Avinter  of  1J)14-15  to  liave  j>erniittecl  a  sort  of 
traffic  tliat  could  not  hut  ini])rove  the  i)osilion  of 
Turkey.  AVhilc  it  might  have  been  ])ossil)le,  as, 
indeed,  it  was  at  times,  to  bribe  officials  of  the 
Rumanian  state  railroads  and  the  Rumanian  cus- 
toms and  frontier-security  services,  it  would  have 
been  very  difficult  to  get  around  the  Rumanian 
political  police  and  government  secret  service, 

I  was  in  Bucluirest  at  tlie  time  and  had  occasion 
to  occupy  myself  with  one  of  tlie  Entente's  com- 
plaints that  ammunition  intended  for  Turkey  was 
going  through  Rumania.  I  was  assured  in  govern- 
ment circles,  by  the  first  secretary  of  Premier 
Bratianu,  among  others,  that  such  an  assertion 
A\as  preposterous  and  a  poor  reward  for  the  in- 
terest in  the  Entente's  cause  which  the  government 
was  showing.  jNIr.  Take  Jonescu  informed  me 
that  the  protests  of  the  Entente  governments  were 
based  on  nothing  better  than  unfounded  reports 
made  by  over-zealous  intelligence  agents  eager  to 
make  a  showing  with  their  superiors.  Since  ]\Ir. 
Jonescu  was  then  in  charge  of  the  British  propa- 
ganda in  Rumania,  I  had  every  reason  to  believe 
him. 

But  holding,  i)crhaps,  an  exaggerated  opinion 
of  corruption  in  Rumania,  the  governments  in 
London  and  I'aris  may  have  deemed  it  the  better 
part  of  \'alor  not  to  j^ress  the  naval  operations 
against  the  Dardanelles.  If  the  Gennans  had  really 
succeeded   in   getting   thousands  of   shells   to   the 

1J4, 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

strait,  there  was  no  telling  how  many  ships  would 
yet  have  to  be  sacrificed  before  the  Dardanelles 
were  forced  and  Constantinople  taken.  The  war 
was  still  too  young  to  risk  many  of  the  line  ships 
of  the  Allied  fleet. 

The  case  must  have  hinged  upon  Rumania,  be- 
cause there  was  no  other  way  of  getting  shells  into 
Turkey.  The  Serbs  still  held  the  Danube  and  the 
Sava  lines.  In  the  Strait  of  Otranto  lay  a  large 
Allied  fleet,  keeping  the  Adriatic  Sea  closed,  so 
that  no  Austrian  ship  could  get  to  any  part  of  the 
Ottoman  Empire.  The  German  fleet  could  not 
reach  the  Mediterranean.  Russia  had  barricaded 
all  other  avenues  of  access  to  Turkey. 

I  may  state  in  this  connection,  for  the  purpose  of 
showing  how  desperate  the  need  of  ammunition  of 
the  Turks  was,  that  during  the  early  part  of  the 
siege  an  attempt  was  made  by  the  Germans  to  take 
ammunition  from  Trieste  to  Smyrna  by  means  of  a 
submarine  freighter.  The  vessel  was  especially  built 
for  the  purpose,  being  merely  a  sort  of  tank  capa- 
ble of  floating  at  a  convenient  depth.  It  had  no 
motive  power  of  its  own  and  could  neither  rise  nor 
sink  by  itself.    It  was  a  makeshift  and  a  failure. 

I  will  now  return  to  my  journal. 

Per  A,  April  Jfth. 

We  are  back  in  Constantinople — F.  Swing  and  I. 

One  of  the  last  things  we  did  was  to  excavate  a 
bit  on  the  site  of  the  ancient  Abydos,  the  only 
Jew  settlement  on  the  Dardanelles,  when  the  strait 
was  known  as  Hellespont.    So  they  say. 

We  are  the  first   to  have  done  that.     Many 

155 


FROM    HKRLIN    TO   BAGDAD 

rajuldr  arclioologists  have  in  the  past  made  appli- 
cation to  I  lie  Turkisli  government  for  permission 
ti)  delve  into  I  he  secrets  of  the  hill.  They  were 
refused,  for  the  reason  that  at  the  hase  of  the  hill 
lie  some  very  imi>ortant  forts  and  batteries.  Those 
arcluH)logisls  mi;j:ht  gather  military  information  as 
a  side  line,  and,  since  every  emplacement  is  visible 
from  the  site  of  Abydos,  there  is  no  telling  what 
might  ha])])en. 

It  is  diil'erenl  with  us.  Enver  Pasha  has  given 
us  carte  blanche  in  return  for  our  comj^laisance  in 
subscribing  to  Ottoman  military  law,  and  that  has 
greatly  imi)ressed  everybody. 

The  commander  of  Fort  Nagara  said  that  under 
the  circumstances  we  could  dig  anywhere.  He  also 
gave  us  eight  soldiers  for  the  purpose.  Then  I 
made  a  survey  of  the  site  and  imagined  that  I  had 
discovered  the  locale  of  the  city  walls  of  Abydos. 

But  my  "spades"  soon  hit  a  pavement.  That 
was  too  much  for  them.  So  I  tried  another  spot 
and  found  a  vase. 

The  vase  is  an  unseemly  thing.  Crudeness  is 
written  all  over  it.  The  thing  was  fashioned  by 
hand  and  burned  in  an  open  fire.  The  decorations 
on  it  are  decidedly  Trojan — black  and  red  in  a 
conventional  j)attern. 

F.  Swing  found  several  little  pans  about  the 
size  of  the  saucer  of  a  demi-tasse.  He  says  that  the 
ladies  of  Abydos  used  to  keep  ointments  and 
pomades  in  them.  My  friend  deduces  from  that 
that  the  ladies  of  Abydos  were  pretty.  Later,  as 
he  found  more  of  them,  he  said  that  the  ladies  of 
Abydos  were  beautiful. 

156 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

Swing's  judgment  in  the  matter  is  influenced  by 
a  certain  Greek  lady  of  Maidos  possessing  Titian 
charms.  Ye  gods!  what  hair  that  damosel  has! 
What  eyes!  And  Troy  is  not  far  away — only  some 
fifteen  miles.  No  wonder  Agamemnon  stirred  up 
a  row! 

The  vase  being  all  I  wanted,  and  archeology 
and  the  like  being  not  my  domain,  anyway,  I 
suggested  that  we  go  home  and  leave  that  sort  of 
thing  to  regular  and  scientific  excavators.  Not  so 
F.  Swing.  We  had  a  large  row  on  the  site  of  Abydos, 
and  we  then  went  home,  anyway,  a  generous 
shower  of  rain  supporting  my  viewpoint. 

We  returned  to  Constantinople  on  a  six-knot 
tub.  It  took  us  almost  three  days  to  reach  dear 
old  Byzantium.  When  we  saw  the  city  by  the 
Golden  Horn  again  we  felt  as  all  good  Perotes  do, 
for  full-fledged  Perotes  we  are  by  this  time. 

At  the  hotel  we  had  a  *'bawth,"  and  then  we 
rushed  to  the  Petit  Club,  where  we  allowed  one 
and  all  to  admire  us.  Our  fame  is  no  small  matter. 
Our  fame  is  so  great  that  we  expect  an  audience 
in  a  day  or  two  with  His  Majesty,  Sultan  *Moham- 
med  Rechad  Khan  V. 

April  7th. 

His  Majesty  did  receive  us  in  audience. 

The  event  came  to  pass  this  afternoon.  It  lasted 
from  2.07  to  2.29  p.m. — twenty-two  minutes  in  all, 
which  is  seven  minutes  more  than  any  ambassador 
ever  gets,  no  matter  how  much  gold  braid  he  may 
have  on  his  uniform.  But  F.  Swing  and  I  are 
privileged  characters  hereabouts. 

157 


FROM    HKHLIN   TO    HACiDAD 

Spcakiu.u'  of  (li'css  r<Mniii<ls  iiic  Ilia  I  l'\  Suiii^"  and 
1  lia«I  a  fiiio  (imo  of  it  yostortlay,  trying  to  get  the 
needed  liahilinienls  for  the  audience.  Tlie  court 
ruh\s  prescribe  wluit  the  Sultan's  visitors  have  to 
wear.  \Ve  did  not  liave  sucli  raiment,  and  in 
Const antino])le  just  now  it  is  not  so  easily  pro- 
cvM'ed. 

1 1  was  a  merry  diase  all  over  the  city  h(^fore  we 
found  w^hat  was  needed — frock-coat,  dark  striped 
trousers,  i)atent-lealJHT  shoes,  dark  cravat,  high  col- 
hir,  white  gloves,  and  silk  hat — haute  forme. 

It  is  a  long  time  since  I  luive  been  so  busy. 
We  scoured  all  Pera  for  a  second  time,  and  then 
succeeded.  At  that  tiie  things  wouhl  not  fit.  F. 
Swing  is  a  httle  too  slim  for  store  clotlies,  and  I 
— well,  two  men  of  ordinary  size  could  be  made  out 
of  me. 

But  we  took  the  things  and  then  rushed  off  to 
an  English  tailor  on  the  Gran'  Rue.  He  made  a 
fine  job  of  it  overnight.  When  F.  Swing,  wlio  had 
never  seen  me  in  anything  but  a  w^ar  correspond- 
ent's raiment,  caught  sight  of  me,  he  opined  that  I 
was  ready  to  become  a  Senator  of  Texas,  the  Lone 
Star  State  being  my  place  of  official  residence. 

Of  course  one  cannot  call  on  the  Sultan  afoot. 
Nor  were  we  big  enougli  to  have  the  court  ecpiipage 
sent  for  us,  though  F.  Swing  j)rayed  tliat  this  would 
happen.  We  went  around  to  the  American  em- 
bassy and  stated  our  wants. 

The  ambassador  was  somewhat  surprised  when 
he  heard  that  we  had  engineered  an  audience  with 
the  Sultan  w^'thout  his  ken.  Usually,  the  ambassa- 
dor attends  to  such  matters.    But  we  were  given  the 

158 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

automobile  and  a  gloriously  attired  cavass,  for  all 
that. 

With  the  cavass  looking  his  best  in  his  official 
costume — much  embroidered  with  gold  and  glori- 
fied with  a  sash  of  vivid  scarlet,  in  the  folds  of 
which  two  murderous-looking  pistols  reposed — we 
made  off  for  the  audience. 

Even  the  chauffeur  did  his  best  to  make  things 
interesting  and  official.  He  honked  the  horn  per- 
sistently and  often,  as  if  to  call  everybody  to  the 
windows  to  see  the  show.  Cavass  and  silk  hats 
left  no  doubt  in  the  minds  of  Pera,  Galata,  and 
Fyndykly  that  His  Majesty  was  about  to  have 
callers. 

At  the  gate  of  the  Dolma  Bagtche  Pakce  they 
knew  that  we  were  people  of  some  importance, 
even  if  we  did  not  come  in  a  court  equipage. 

The  chauffeur  was  directed  to  drive  through  the 
large,  gilded  gate  which  is  opened  only  on  state 
occasions.  But  perhaps  the  small  gate  was  out 
of  commission  just  then.  Next  the  guard  was  called 
out  and  drawn  up.  We  greeted  the  officer  of  the 
day  and  then  rolled  on  through  the  splendid  Italian 
gardens  of  the  palace.  En  route  the  cavass  in- 
formed me  that  a  high  wall  to  the  left  of  us  in- 
closes the  imperial  hareem. 

That  wall  was  uninteresting  enough,  I  will  say. 
To  the  disappointment  of  some  of  my  readers,  I 
will  state  that  there  are  not  many  ladies  in  the 
hareem;  just  the  four  wives  of  the  Sultan  and  his 
daughters. 

We  went  to  the  selamlik,  as  the  men's  part  of 
any  Turkish  home  is  called. 

11  159 


FROM   IU:RKIN   to  BAGDAD 

'I'hc  sriamlik  of  Ddlma  Rafftche  is  an  imposing 
and  pleasing  slnuimr  of  while  marble  and  stucco. 
'Flu*  l)uil<liii,U-  has  only  two  stories,  hnl  each  story 
is  high  enough  lo  i)rovide  the  Jieight  needed  to 
discount  t]ic  great  lengtli  of  the  structure. 

Toward  the  garden  the  sclamh'k  has  a  fine  por- 
tico. Under  this  lies  the  main  ramj)  and  stairway. 
As  tlie  automobile  stopi)ed,  several  court  officials 
in  frock-coats  were  ready  to  receive  us.  In  stepping 
out  of  the  machine  I  dented  the  crown  of  my  silk 
hat.  I  bent  the  thing  into  shape  again,  looking 
meanwhile  into  the  sympathetic  face  of  a  nice  old 
Turk  who  was  expressing  his  regrets.  I  told  him 
that  since  His  Majesty  was  not  likely  to  see  the 
silk  hat  no  damage  was  done. 

At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  we  were  received  by  the 
master  of  ceremonies.  He  was  very  stout  and  very 
good-natured.  From  his  hands  we  passed  into 
those  of  Brigadier-Cieneral  Salih  Pasha,  first  aide- 
de-camp  to  the  Sultan. 

Salih  Pasha  was  standing  at  the  head  of  the 
stairs,  and  looked  very  martial.  So  w'e  cracked 
our  heels  and  bowled,  as  becomes  such  hybrid  beings 
as  war  correspondents — half  civilian,  half  military. 

There  and  then  we  discovered  that  Salih  Pasha 
was  a  most  congenial  sort  of  person.  He  bid  us 
welcome  to  the  palace  in  a  very  happy  manner, 
and  then  led  tlie  way  to  one  of  the  reception-rooms 
of  the  palace — one  of  the  great  halls  for  which 
Dolma  Bagtche  is  truly  famous.  The  room  lies 
to  the  left  of  the  main  foyer.  It  is  a  magnificent 
apartment,  decorated  sumptuously  in  the  style  of 
Italian  Renaissance. 

160 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

"His  Majesty  has  expressed  keen  appreciation  of 
his  meeting  with  you  gentlemen,"  said  Salih  Pasha, 
as  he  dragged  some  chairs  before  the  large,  open 
fireplace  in  which  a  fine  log  blaze  was  going  on. 
"He  is  occupied  with  some  reports  at  this  moment. 
You  will  kindly  excuse  him  if  the  audience  should 
not  take  place  at  two  o'clock  exactly.  Let  us  have 
some  coffee  and  a  smoke." 

In  Turkey  they  have  coffee  and  a  smoke  on  all 
and  every  occasion.  We  assured  Salih  Pasha  that 
we  would  not  be  put  out  about  it  if  His  Majesty  did 
receive  us  a  few  minutes  late.  To  see  him  at  all  was 
the  main  thing.  Then  we  seated  ourselves  around 
the  fireplace  and  warmed  our  hands.  Overnight 
the  wind  had  shifted.  It  was  now  coming  from  frigid 
Russia,  with  heavy  clouds  and  showers  on  its  back. 

Salih  Pasha  was  greatly  interested  in  what  we 
had  seen  at  the  Dardanelles.  I  gave  him  some  of 
the  military  aspects  of  the  situation  at  the  strait, 
and  he  returned  opinions  on  German  military  efii- 
ciency.  Salih  Pasha  disclosed  himself  as  a  great 
admirer  of  the  Germans.  That  is  natural  enough, 
seeing  that  much  of  his  military  training  dates 
back  to  the  days  when  he  was  a  dashing  cavalry 
oflBcer  in  Coblentz  on  the  Rhine. 

The  coffee  came.  It  was  served  in  the  thinnest 
porcelain  cups  I  have  ever  seen.  So  thin  were 
these  shells  that  touching  them  with  your  fingers 
might  crush  them,  explained  Salih  Pasha.  That 
was  the  reason  why  they  had  been  placed  in  holders 
of  gold  filigree.  I  wondered  how  they  washed  the 
things,  and  took  a  sip  of  the  brew — real  Mocha 
from  Arabia,  said  the  general. 

161 


FRCni   BERTJN  TO  BAGDAD 

Salih  Paslui  liaiwlcd  each  of  us  a  cigarette — 
thick  things  about  ten  iiiclios  long,  of  wliich  len^^tli 
four  inclu's  wore  |)a])er  tuho.  It  was  a  very  uiiltl 
suioko  — (louirotiiii/o<I. 

"His  Majesty  is  ^really  interested  in  wliat  hap- 
pemxl  on  the  eigliteenth  of  Mareli,"  said  the  gen- 
eral, after  a  while.  "He  may  ask  some  questions 
concerning  that  event.  In  case  he  sliould  do  so, 
make  your  replies  brief  and  to  the  point.  I  am  to 
act  as  your  interj)reter." 

At  four  minutes  past  two  o'clock  the  high  double 
doors  of  the  salo?i  were  swimg  open.  Then  the 
master  of  ceremonies  appeared  on  the  threshold. 
Before  he  entered  the  room  he  bowed  to  us,  and 
after  advancing  a  few  paces  he  repeated  the  salu- 
tation. After  that  he  said  something  in  Turkish 
of  which  I  could  not  catch  a  single  word,  though 
out  at  the  front  I  am  able  already  to  make  myself 
understood  to  the  soldiers. 

Salih  Pasha  explained  that  the  many  words 
meant  merely  that  His  Majesty  was  waiting  for  us. 

F.  Swing  shook  his  frock-coat  into  place,  squared 
up,  and  made  generally  ready  for  the  procession. 
The  master  of  ceremonies  faced  about.  Salih  Pasha 
suggested  that,  as  senior,  I  should  take  my  place 
behind  that  functionary.  Then  came  my  friend. 
The  general  brought  up  the  rear. 

As  we  filed  out  of  the  reception-room  a  score  of 
court  employe(\s  and  officers  salaamed  and  saluted 
and  some  of  them  attached  themselves  to  us. 

The  procession,  keeping  studiously  to  the  run- 
ners protecting  the  costly  carpets  and  rugs  on  the 
Hoor,  made  its  way  through  a  great  atrium,  toward 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

the  grand  stair-house.  There  is  a  flight  of  stairs  to 
the  left  and  one  to  the  right,  both  of  them  landing 
on  a  sort  of  balcony  on  a  level  with  the  upper 
story  of  the  building. 

We  took  the  flight  on  the  right,  and,  going  up, 
I  had  a  fine  opportunity  to  study  the  details  of  the 
splendid  cut-crystal  balustrades  of  the  stairs  and 
balcony.  The  man  who  conceived  the  proportions 
and  decorations  of  that  stair-house  thought  only 
in  the  sublime.  The  effect  of  the  whitest  of  marble, 
the  crystal,  and  the  gold  is  marvelous. 

At  the  head  of  the  stairs  we  turned  to  the  right, 
then  entered  a  corridor  at  the  left,  turned  once 
more  to  the  right,  and  finally  entered  a  small 
reception-room — antechamber  to  the  private  quar- 
ters of  the  ruler  of  the  Ottoman  Empire. 

That  seemed  to  end  the  duties  of  the  master  of 
ceremonies.  He  and  the  other  functionaries  \\dth- 
drew.  For  a  minute  or  two  we  looked  around  the 
plain  room,  and  then  a  man  in  a  plain  frock-coat 
entered.  He  informed  us  that  His  Majesty  was 
waiting,  and  motioned  to  me  that  I  was  to  enter  a 
narrow  and  wholly  unlighted  corridor  from  which 
he  had  stepped  into  the  room. 

This  I  did.  After  a  few  paces  I  noticed  to  the 
left  of  me  an  open  door,  the  only  thing  I  could 
see.  I  concluded  that  this  might  be  the  end  of  the 
maze  through  which  we  had  been  led. 

I  stepped  to  the  door  with  my  wits  in  good  order, 
looked  in,  and  saw  an  aged  and  rather  corpulent 
man  of  medium  height  rise  from  a  divan. 

Agreeable  to  the  instructions  given  us  by  Salih 
Pasha,  I  stopped  on  the  threshold,  looked  Moham- 

1G3 


FROM    HKRMN   TO   BAGDAD 

med  Rechad  Ivlian  V  full  in  the  face,  and  bowed 
three  limes. 

Tlie  Sullaii  was  smiling  quite  heartily.  He  came 
toward  me  an<l  ex  ten*  led  liis  liand,  saying  something 
in  'i'urkish  tlie  while.  This  time  I  was  luckier.  I 
c-aughf  I  he  word,  '\Salaam.''' 

We  shook  liands,  and  tlien  I  stepped  aside  to  let 
F.  Swing  go  through  llie  same  maneuver. 

These  formalities  over,  the  Sultan  jx)inted  to  the 
chairs  that  had  been  placed  before  his  divan.  We 
stei>]>ed  toward  them,  and  seated  ourselves  as  soon 
as  the  Sultan  had  done  so.  But  Salih  Pasha,  more 
a  stickler  for  form  than  his  master,  had  to  intro- 
duce us  formally,  and  so  we  rose  again  as  he  an- 
nounced our  names,  connections,  and  the  purpose 
of  our  stay  in  Turkey.  As  Swing  and  I  caught  our 
names  we  bowed,  and  the  Sultan  smiled  in  recog- 
nition. 

It  struck  me  that  the  monarch  was  eager  to  dis- 
pense with  mucli  of  the  rigmarole  that  was  going 
on.  Before  Salih  Pasha  was  through  with  the  in- 
troduction of  Swing  the  Sultan  motioned  to  us  to 
be  seated. 

For  the  space  of  a  minute  Mohammed  Rechad 
spoke  to  Salih  Pasha,  dwelling  lovingly  on  the  let- 
ter "1."  All  Turks  have  that  habit,  however.  More 
time  was  lost  when  Salih  Pasha  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  interi)ret  every  word  his  august  master 
had  uttered. 

"His  Majesty  desires  to  extend  to  you  a  most 
hearty  welcome,"  he  began.  "He  also  wishes  that 
we  do  not  stand  on  ceremony  too  much.  This  is  an 
informal  meeting — the  first  His  Majesty  has  had 

1G4 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

with  American  journalists — with  journalists  of  any 
kind." 

He  said  some  other  pleasant  things,  but  they 
need  not  be  recorded. 

I  was  meanwhile  surveying  the  ruler  of  the  Otto- 
man Empire  and  spiritual  head  of  the  Moslem 
world. 

The  sultan-caliph  was  very  simply  attired.  He 
wore  a  frock-coat  of  blue  broadcloth,  trousers  of 
the  same  fabric,  black  shoes  with  soft  uppers,  a 
turned-down  collar,  blue  scarf,  and  the  conven- 
tional maroon  fez  of  the  Ottoman.  There  was  no 
jewelry  of  any  sort  about  his  person — not  even  a 
stickpin. 

I  found  that  the  sallow  and  rather  fleshy  face  was 
not  as  immobile  as  one  might  gather  from  the  pict- 
ures of  the  man.  On  the  contrary,  there  were 
moments  when  it  was  full  of  expression,  especially 
when  there  was  an  occasion  for  a  smile. 

The  Sultan  appeared  to  me  a  gentle  old  man 
whose  lot  in  life  had  left  him  resigned  instead  of 
bitter.  For  many  years  Mohammed  Rechad  was 
the  prisoner  of  his  brother  Abdul  Hamid.  Youth 
had  flown  when  the  revolution  freed  him  and  made 
him  ruler  of  an  empire. 

The  facial  traits  of  the  Sultan  are  distinctly 
Turkish,  more  so  even  than  those  of  his  famous 
brother.  But  the  face  is  devoid  of  the  cruelty 
commonly  credited  to  the  family.  The  large  brown 
eyes  have  a  good-natured  twinkle  in  them,  though 
they  could  also  search,  as  I  noticed. 

The  Sultan  was  very  much  interested  in  the 
events  at  the  Dardanelles.    Before  long  I  was  under 

1G5 


FROAI    BERLIN   TO   IV\r.n.M) 

the  impivssioii  IIkiI  \\c  was  clu'ckiu^'  up  things  he 
liatl  licard,  hul  which  \\c  liad  lak(>ii  cinii  grano  salis. 
Ho  was  especially  interested  in  what  the  losses 
of  the  coast  batteries  had  been.  AVhen  I  told  him 
liow  slight  tliey  were  lie  <«xpressed  surprise,  and 
then  said  souielhing  to  liis  aide-de-camp  which 
the  latter  did  not  translate. 

Other  rtMuarks  showed  me  that  the  Sultan  had 
not  hoi>ed  for  so  lucky  a  turn.  He  had  been 
agreeably  snri)rised,  it  seemed.  He  was  not  yet 
sure  tJuit  there  was  good  reason  for  entertaining 
so  ])leasant  a  sensation. 

A  lively  conversation  was  soon  in  progress. 
Questions  of  a  military  character  were  addressed  to 
me,  while  Swing  had  to  give  an  account  of  things 
concerning  the  civil  population  along  the  strait. 
The  Sultan  was  greatly  interested  in  the  fate  of  the 
l)eople  of  'iVIianak  Kaleh. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  said  the  Sultan,  after  I  had  re- 
marked that  his  officers  and  men  had  done  splen- 
didly during  the  bombardment.  "They  have  done 
well.  For  that  I  am  thankful  to  Allah  and  thankful 
to  them.  Not  all  of  the  spirit  of  the  Osmanli  has 
departed,  though  my  i)eople  is  no  longer  what  it 
once  was.  It  has  gone  through  too  many  wars. 
It  has  bled  too  nnich.  But  the  days  of  a  long  peace 
will  come,  and  then  the  Ottoman  nation  will  again 
forge  ahead." 

With  that  the  Sultan  turned  to  my  friend  with 
the  question  as  to  how  he  had  stood  the  terror  of 
the  bombardments. 

F.  Swing  is  an  honest  man.    He  explained  to  the 

Sultan  that  most  of  the  time  he  had  been  scared 

u;(i 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE   SITLTAN 

out  of  his  wits.  On  March  18th  he  was  so  scared, 
he  said,  that  an  old  Turk  at  Tchanak  Kaleh  had 
placed  a  hand  on  his  shoulder  in  a  fatherly  way, 
remarking : 

"  Yok,  effendim!  Yok — kismet!"  That  is  nothing, 
sir.    It  is  fate! 

The  Sultan  smiled. 

"I  am  glad  that  a  Turk  offered  you  such  com- 
fort," he  said.  "But  you  do  not  look  like  a  man 
who  would  fear  much. 

"And  the  old  Turk  did  not  use  the  right  word, 
my  young  friend.  He  should  have  said,  kadar. 
Kismet  applies  to  the  lesser  trials  of  life,  while 
kadar  embraces  all  of  our  great  misfortunes.  Kadar 
means  that  our  fate  is  in  the  hands  of  the  Almighty, 
of  Allah." 

The  Sultan  bowed  as  he  pronounced  the  word 
Allah.     Then  he  continued: 

"What  is  to  be  will  be.  This  attitude  of  the 
mind  is  known  to  you  of  the  Occident  as  fatalism. 
But  that  word  does  not  wholly  embrace  our  con- 
ception of  kadar. 

"But  we  must  not  consign  everything  in  life  to 
kadar.  Some  of  us  have  a  false  conception  of  how 
far  we  must  trust  in  fate.  We  have,  as  a  race, 
relied  too  much  upon  kadar  in  the  past,  and  so  we 
have  grown  negligent  and  indolent.  Kadar  alone 
will  not  cause  us  to  do  well  in  life.  We  must  work, 
work,  work!" 

Mohammed  Rechad  wanted  to  hear  more  of  the 
sinking  of  the  Bouvet,  Irresistible,  and  Ocean. 

"It  is  a  pity  that  so  many  young  lives  should 
have  been  lost,"  he  said,  when  I  had  gone  over  the 

107 


FROM  BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

ground  again.  "AVhal  is  the  use  of  all  this  blood- 
shed, tin's  making  of  widows  and  orphans,  this  de- 
struction of  what  man's  hands  have  fashioned  so 
laboriously.'' 

"I  did  not  want  this  war.  Allah  be  my  witness! 
I  am  sure  that  my  peoi)le  did  not  want  it.  But 
w'hat  can  we  do  under  the  circumstances  but  fight 
Aaliantly?  That  my  army  is  doing,  and  will  con- 
tinue to  do. 

"Russia  would  take  this  city  from  us.  I  fail 
to  see  the  justification  for  that.  This  city  has 
never  been  Russian.  We  took  it  from  the  Greeks 
by  conquest.  We  will  not  surrender  it  except  we 
are  vanquished. 

"Tell  your  government  and  your  people  that 
my  government  and  my  people  find  great  satisfac- 
tion in  being  at  peace  with  them  and  that  our  re- 
lations are  so  cordial." 

With  this  the  Sultan  rose — signal  that  the  audi- 
ence was  over. 

As  we  took  leave  of  him,  Mohammed  Rechad 
patted  Swing  on  the  shoulder. 

"You  are  a  brave  boy,"  he  said,  with  a  kind 
.smile.  "But  remember  that  it  is  kadar  and  not 
kismctr'' 

F.  Swnng  promised  to  do  that  and  assured  the 
Sultan  that  he  would  also  remember  always  the 
man  who  had  given  him  this  lesson  in  Turkish. 
The  Sultan  seemed  to  be  pleased  with  the  compli- 
ment. W^e  were  to  call  on  him  again — every  time 
we  had  something  of  interest  to  tell  him.  That, 
too,  was  promised. 

'I'hen  we  shook  hands  so  heartily  that  our  cuff- 

1G8 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

links  rattled.  At  the  door  we  again  bowed  thrice 
to  the  ruler  of  the  Ottoman  Empire  and  the  caliph 
of  the  Moslems,  and  then  rushed  home  to  write 
what  seemed  to  us  a  pretty  good  story. 

April  9th. 

Attended  the  selamlik  to-day.  The  Sultan  went 
to  worship  in  the  Walideh  Dchami.  Though  the 
war  has  put  a  damper  on  this  splendid  ceremony, 
it  is  still  magnificent  enough  to  give  one  a  taste  of 
what  it  must  have  been  when  Abdul  Hamid  was 
the  central  figure  of  it. 

The  mosque  in  question  lies  to  the  south  of  the 
Dolma  Bagtche  Palace;  its  yard  adjoins  the  im- 
perial stables,  in  fact. 

About  this  yard  had  been  drawn  up  a  few 
mounted  police  and  the  men  from  nearby  fire 
stations.  Formerly,  regiment  upon  regiment  from 
the  local  garrison  took  part  in  the  ceremony.  But 
these  are  now  at  the  front — in  the  Caucasus,  in 
the  desert  east  of  the  Suez  Canal,  and  on  Gallipoli. 

What  gave  glamour  to  to-day's  selamlik  was  the 
assembly  of  officers  of  the  Ottoman  military  and 
naval  general  staffs,  and  officials  of  the  government. 
Most  of  the  ministers  were  also  present. 

In  the  "good  old  days"  of  Abdul  Hamid  these 
ministers  had  to  run  alongside  the  carriage  of  the 
Sultan.  But  the  revolution  has  changed  all  that. 
Nowadays,  the  ministers  meet  the  Sultan  at  the 
entrance  to  the  mosque.  Instead  of  falling  to  the 
ground,  as  formerly,  they  merely  salaam  in  their 
best  fashion  and  then  proceed  to  help  their  ruler 
out  of  the  carriage.    Enver  Pasha  seemed  to  be  es- 

169 


FRCni    HKRMN   TO    BAGDAD 

pocially  (Mi,'or  lo  Uv  of  scrvico  to  llie  stout  old  man. 
Ho  is  rolatc'd  to  him  by  marriage  and  Sultan  Mo- 
hamnu'd  Rrcliad  V  is  extremely  fond  of  the  dash- 
ing Knvor. 

And  that  reminds  me  of  Enver*s  wife.  She  is  a 
princess  of  the  im]>erial  house,  very  young,  de- 
cidtxlly  handsome  in  a  strong  way,  vivacious,  in- 
telligent, and  energetic.  At  the  head  of  a  harecm 
she  would  be  one  of  those  able  intriguers  of  wliom 
the  Ottoman  court  has  had  so  many,  and  who 
have  caused  so  much  bloodshed  and  misery  in  days 
gone  by;  as  it  is  she  is  the  only  wife,  in  the  Euro- 
]>ean  manner,  of  one  of  the  strong  men  in  Turkey. 
That  being  the  case,  she  finds  a  more  natural  outlet 
for  her  energy.  In  addition  to  helping  Enver  with 
his  work — she  has  taken  to  military  affairs  like  a 
duck  to  water — she  runs  most  of  the  war  work  of 
tlie  Turkish  women.  She  manages  several  char- 
itable organizal  ions,  presides  over  the  Turkish  Red 
Crescent,  equivalent  of  the  Red  Cross  elsewhere, 
and  finds  keen  delight  in  managing  bazaars  and 
otlier  charitable  cnteri)rises.  In  her  moments  of 
leisure  she  attends  lectures  at  the  University  of 
Constantinople.  She  is  a  busy  woman  and,  as  I 
learn  on  good  authority,  a  happy  one. 

April  IGth. 

Well,  I  am  alone.  F.  Swing  has  gone  to  the 
Balkans  to  "snooj)"  around  a  bit.  I  am  resting 
lip  from  my  labors  by  taking  a  good  look  at  Stam- 
boul — dear  Stamboul. 

To-day  I  viewed  the  Aflk  All  Pacha  (juarter  of 
Stamboul.     Here  the  wealthy  classes  of  Turkish 

170 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

society  live.  On  the  way  there  I  passed  many  a 
fine  mosque.  But  I  do  not  find  the  large  ones  half 
as  charming  as  the  smaller  ones  and  the  turheh 
(chapels).  Most  of  these  are  surrounded  by  a  high 
wall,  pierced  here  and  there  by  large  openings 
barred  with  wrought-iron  grilles  of  very  beautiful 
designs. 

Behind  the  walls  and  the  grilles  lies  a  little  ceme- 
tery, as  a  rule — shady  lawns  on  which  the  Turkish 
gravestones  lean  in  all  directions.  The  trees  are 
old  and  venerable,  and  through  their  dense  foliage 
come  bits  of  white  marble  walls  and  dashes  of  azure 
sky.  There  is  something  about  these  old  ceme- 
teries that  causes  one  to  understand  the  meaning 
of  the  term,  "Acre  of  Peace." 

The  tashys  stand  about  in  sweet  abandon  to  what- 
ever slant  they  have  elected  to  take.  They  were  set 
perpendicularly,  no  doubt,  but  they  have  shifted  as 
the  grave  sagged.  The  tashy  of  the  man  is  sur- 
mounted by  a  large  bulbous  thing  accepted  to  be 
the  turban,  while  that  of  the  woman  is  plain. 
Generally  a  man  and  his  wife  rest  side  by  side. 
In  some  cases  the  two  stones  incline  toward  each 
other,  in  others  they  lean  away.  I  saw  some 
cases  where  both  tashys  tended  in  the  same  direc- 
tion; now  it  was  the  woman  that  leaned  toward  the 
man,  and  again  the  opposite  was  true.  I  wonder 
whether  or  not  those  gravestones  picture  anything 
of  the  true  relations  of  the  two  in  life. 

I  saw  many  fine  homes  and  gardens  in  Aiih  All 
Pacha — I  think  that  is  the  name.  Of  the  homes 
I  saw  only  the  upper  stories;  of  the  gardens  no 
more   than   the  treetops.      But  there   was   peace 

171 


FROM   BERLIN  TO   BAGDAD 

every wluTo.       It  was  ralJior  diflereiil    at    the  Dar- 
danelles. 

In  and  out  of  the  siinlight-and-shadow  drawings 
on  tlie  pink  garden  walls  passed  Turkish  women  in 
their  fcrcdchehs,  high-heeled  shoes,  yashmaks,  and 
htiriindc/iiiks.  Some  of  them  had  their  oliildren 
witii  (hem.  A  Kurd  hurried  along  with  a  heavy 
load  of  new  furniture  on  liis  bent  back.  The  per- 
spiration was  running  over  the  leather  strap  across 
liis  forehead  wliich  helps  to  keep  the  load  in  place. 
I  wonder  whether  the  yoke  is  heavier  to  the  ox 
than  that  strap  seemed  to  be  to  the  man.  A 
donkey  passed  wdth  a  traveling  meat-shop  on  his 
back — two  large  boxes  covered  with  a  ware  netting 
to  keep  the  flies  off  the  meat  that  was  exhibited. 

*'Kassab!  kassabr  the  man  was  shouting. 

At  last  I  discovered  how  Constantinople  amuses 
itself — how  it  finds  recreation. 

The  capital  has  a  population  of  about  1,135,000, 
and  not  a  single  regular  theater.  Before  the  war  a 
light  opera  troui>e  put  in  appearance  now  and  then. 

There  are  four  cabarets,  all  of  them  more  or 
less,  generally  more,  shady.  The  artistes,  nearly 
all  awkward  dancers  and  worse  singers,  earn,  de- 
spite their  use  of  all  sorts  of  terpsichorean  tricks 
and  any  language  under  the  sun,  the  munificent 
sum  of  fifteen  francs — three  medjidieh — a  night. 
They  are  well  dressed,  of  course,  and  live  in  the 
second-rate  hotels.  They  also  ride  about  in  the 
arabas.  Fifteen  francs  a  night  will  not  pay  for  all 
that.  But  the  ladies  get  a  commission  of  five 
francs  on  each  bottle  of  champagne  they  induce  the 
guests  to  drink.     Three  bottles  a  night  would  be 

172 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

fifteen  francs  more.  That  will  take  care  of  board 
and  lodging  and  the  carriages,  but  not  of  the  toilettes. 
Then,  too,  the  younger  and  better-looking  of  the 
artistes  have  maids.  They  also  have  jewelry  and 
little  dogs,  and  when  they  have  arrived  at  this 
degree  of  magnificence  they  begin  to  put  on  airs. 

The  cabarets  are  crowded,  naturally.  Ofiicers 
in  the  Ottoman  service,  government  officials,  diplo- 
matic secretaries,  and  rich  Perotes  and  Stamboulites 
about  town  form  the  elegant  audience  of  these 
amusement  places.  Just  now  a  young  aviation 
officer  is  the  "prince"  of  the  Jardin  de  Paris.  I 
was  introduced  to  this  fine  spendthrift  last  night. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  he  is  a  high-flier  in  more 
ways  than  one. 

We  were  intimate  within  ten  minutes. 

He  called  me  his  cher,  French  is  the  only  Euro- 
pean language  he  knows.  And  that  is  enough, 
anyway,  seeing  that  his  mother  tongue  is  Turkish. 

""Mon  cher,"  he  said,  easily  and  with  the  grace 
of  a  potentate,  "one  does  not  know  when  one  flies 
for  the  last  time.  I  have  had  several  narrow  escapes. 
One  of  these  days  a  hole  in  the  air  will  get  me.  It 
will  be  a  case  of  down,  down,  down — and  ..." 

He  lifted  the  glass  to  his  lips.  I  nodded.  He 
drank. 

"You  understand,  mo7i  cher  amil"  said  the  avi- 
ator, bowing  slightly. 

"I  understand  perfectly.  There  will  be  a  sudden 
meeting  of  two  bodies,  a  crash,  wreckage,  a  fire 
maybe,  as  the  gas  ignites,  and  ..." 

"For  me  death — pour  moi  la  froide  morte.  Ca 
m'est  egair 

173 


FROM    Ui:iM-IN     ro    liA(;i)AI) 

Woll,  1  .siii)i>oso  iL  is  llwiL  \v;iy  with  aviaLors. 

The  conservative  elemeiil,  ilie  capital's  boiir- 
j^eoisle,  does  not  i^o  to  I  lie  cabarets.  Tliese  (ireek, 
Armenian,  an<l  Levantine  families  liold  to  the  nar- 
row path  of  virtue.  Of  course,  no  Turk  would 
dream  of  taking  his  "household"  to  a  cabaret. 

That  limits  one  to  the  moving-picture  liouses, 
known  liereabouts  as  cinemas  or  kinos.  There  being 
a  general  i)rejudice  against  attending  ])laces  of 
amusement  at  night,  the  family  sees  the  latest 
Italian,  French,  or  German  film  in  the  afternoon. 
Tlie  favorite  su])jects  are  liistorical  or  melodra- 
matic. The  former  must  be  pompous  and  long, 
the  latter  highly  emotional  and  tragic.  At  least 
the  heroine  must  die  in  the  last  "take"  of  the  film. 
If  it  can  be  managed,  the  hero  also  must  go  by  the 
board.  The  Levantine  has  what  I  would  call  the 
"opera"  temperament — that  is  to  say,  the  lovely 
person  who  has  kept  us  enthralled  by  her  beauty, 
grace,  suffering,  and  nobility  of  mind  must  in  the 
end  die  so  that  we  may  have  the  subconscious 
satisfaction  of  feeling  that  now  she  is  all  our 
own. 

Pera  lias  several  concert  gardens.  The  best  at- 
tended of  tliese  is  the  establishment  of  Les  Peiits 
Champs  des  Moris  (the  Little  Cemetery). 

To  us  of  the  West  the  thought  of  having  a  sort 

of  large  open-air  restaurant  in  a  cemetery  seems 

a  little  odd.     In  the  East  they  do  not  mind  such 

things.      The    place    is    really    beautiful.      Great, 

somber  cypresses   overshadow  the   young   acacias 

that  have  been  planted  to  afford  shade  for  those 

Mtting   at   the   table.     On   the   graves   have   been 

m 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

heaped  several  feet  of  soil  and  gravel.  That  pre- 
vents the  dead  from  being  disturbed. 

The  Greek  orchestra  does  well  enough.  Its  reper- 
toire includes  the  masterpieces  of  Europe,  a  little 
ragtime,  even  a  few  plantation  songs,  and  the 
things  they  call  music  in  the  East.  While  the 
leader  sways  his  company  as  best  he  may — that 
orchestra  lacks  dash,  by  the  way — the  youngsters 
run  among  the  trees  and  tables  and  chairs  and 
scream  for  joy.  Maman  sips  her  cup  of  ichai  (tea) 
and  monsieur  pere  has  his  bock.  Elena  munches  a 
wafer  and  moistens  it  with  a  grenadine  lemonade, 
while  Theano  scoops  up  the  red-and-white  ice- 
cream in  a  pensive  mood.  Constantin  has  just 
been  called  to  order  by  monsieur  pere  for  blowing 
into  the  straw  and  making  the  lemonade  bubble, 
and  maman  promises  him  a  going-to-bed-without- 
supper. 

Tout  comme  chez  nous! 

The  conversation  in  the  garden  is  mostly  carried 
on  in  French.  For  that  language  remains  the 
lingua  franca  of  the  Levant.  The  Greek  does  not 
understand  Armenian,  and  when  he  understands 
it  he  does  not  use  it  on  general  principles,  because 
the  Armenian  will  not  speak  Greek  if  he  can  help 
it.  Neither  Greek  nor  Armenian  speaks  Turkish 
well  or  willingly,  and  the  Turk  is  in  a  like  position 
when  it  comes  to  the  languages  of  his  compatriots 
— if  compatriots  they  regard  themselves  at  all. 
Even  the  German  officers  in  the  Ottoman  naval 
and  military  services  speak  French.  Turkish,  Greek, 
and  Armenian  are  languages  which  even  the  poly- 
glot German  does  not  acquire.     So  far  but  few 


12 


175 


FROM    HKRLIN   TO  BAGDAD 

here  have  learned  enough  German  to  speak  at  all 
well,  UioukIi  everybody  is  l)u.sy  eonjugaiing  Ger- 
man verbs  and  memorizing  tlie  German  vocabulary. 

Around  the  copse  of  acacias  runs  a  gravel  path 
— tJie  cor.w.  Those  who  are  liretl  sitting,  and  those 
who  want  to  see  who  is  tliere,  keep  making  the 
rounds  on  the  path.  Friends  meet,  shake  hands 
or  salaam,  exchange  a  few  words,  and  move  on. 
There  is  considerable  flirting.  The  Levantine  ladies 
seem  to  be  rather  fond  of  the  officers.  The  lure 
of  the  brass  button  is  potent  everywhere.  Present 
are  also  some  chantcuscs  and  danscuses.  Most  of 
their  friends  are  in  the  several  diplomatic  services 
represented  in  the  Ottoman  capital. 

At  five  o'clock  tlie  concert  ends.  The  garden 
clears  rapidly.  The  Perotes  go  home  to  dine.  Many 
of  them  stay  for  their  dinner.  There  is  a  large 
terrace  to  one  side  of  the  garden,  with  majestic 
cypresses  as  a  huge  Spanish  screen,  and  one  has 
glimpses  of  the  Golden  Horn,  Stambours  sky-line 
of  minarets  and  cupolas,  and  a  splendid  sunset  for 
diversion. 

It  is  a  little  early  to  dine  when  the  concert  ends, 
so  one  takes  an  aperifif,  as  one  does  on  the  Boule- 
vard des  Italiens  in  the  real  Paris,  and  chats  mean- 
while about  many  things — the  war  alone  excluded. 
To  talk  of  the  war  is  a  little  dangerous — often  very 
dangerous.  It  depends  how  one  feels  about  it. 
Public  opinion  in  Constantinople  about  the  war 
is  far  from  ))eing  unanimous.  The  Armenians  at 
least  are  anti-Turk  and  anti-German.  To  say  that 
one  is  either  is  to  say  that  one  is  both.  The  Greeks 
are  indifferent,  and  the  other  Levantines  don't  care. 

176 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

At  six-thirty  the  dishes  begin  to  rattle,  the  silver 
tinkles,  glasses  clink,  corks  pop,  and  the  orchestra 
is  again  at  work.  Never  has  a  congregation  of  the 
dead  enjoyed  so  much  company,  nor  one  so  joyous. 
By  eight  o'clock  it  is  a  merry  scene  in  the  garden. 
Everybody  laughs  and  makes  merry.  The  artistes 
are  on  the  boards,  and  when  at  twelve  one  goes 
home  one  feels  that  even  in  war  not  all  is 
sadness. 

On  fine  days  monsieur  pere  hires  an  araba  and 
drives  his  family  to  the  park  known  as  the  Sweet 
Waters  of  Europe.  Under  its  old  trees  one  may 
roll  in  the  grass.  At  the  kiosks  all  sorts  of  non- 
alcoholic drinks  may  be  had  cheaply,  and  the 
ambitious  may  rent  a  caique  and  exercise  their 
muscles,  rowing.  The  more  enterprising  may  even 
go  to  the  park  of  the  Sweet  Waters  of  Asia,  where 
a  sort  of  perennial  country  fair  is  held,  while  those 
with  more  means  take  a  trip  to  the  island  of  Prin- 
cipo  or  as  far  as  Ismid,  to  which  good  suburban 
trains  take  one  in  very  little  time. 

But  all  that  does  not  fill  life  entirely.  The 
Levantine  has  a  very  active  mind,  and  there  is 
little  to  occupy  it.  The  supply  of  good  reading  is 
extremely  limited.  The  few  daily  newspapers  in 
Turkish,  Greek,  French,  Armenian,  and  German 
bring  all  the  same  reports.  The  censorship  is 
rigorous  and  a  pest. 

Good  books  are  hard  to  get  since  the  outbreak 
of  the  war.  Most  of  them  came  from  France,  and 
just  now  France  is  too  busy  to  make  and  export 
books.  Greek  literature  offers  little.  Its  novels 
are  mostly  of  the  back-stairs  sort.    They  are  writ- 

177 


FROM    BERIJN  TO  BAGDAD 

ten  for  llir  j>oor  aiul  show  il.  Tlic  wealthy  classes 
can  ;ifVorcl  lo  \niy  French  novels,  and  the  needs  of 
tlieir  |><)oror  race  brothers  concern  them  not.  One 
result  of  Uiis  has  been  that  tlie  newspapers  car- 
rie<l  excellent  fcuilletons  (feature  stories),  "Con- 
tinued" novels,  and  j)oems.  But  the  war  has  laid 
low  now  Uiat  soiu'ce  of  mental  food.  There  is  a 
great  scarcity  of  ])aper. 

But  the  mind  must  be  kept  busy.  For  this 
reason  Pera,  whose  gossip  has  been  proverbial  for 
centuries,  talks  more  than  ever.  Formerly  this  talk 
concerned  itself  largely  with  family  scandals  and 
tlie  like.  Nowadays  it  turns  to  war  rumors.  The 
wildest  reports  spring  up  and  spread  over  the  city 
in  the  space  of  hours.  Tatavla  being  a  quarter  of  the 
city  in  which  only  better-class  Greeks  live,  some 
spiteful  wit  opined  that  these  rumors  came  from 
the  Agence  Tatavla — equivalent  for  the  American 
"grape-vine  news." 

The  gossiping  Perotes  occupy  themselves  much 
with  the  love-affairs  of  strangers  in  the  diplomatic 
and  military  services.  Having  no  love-stories  to 
read,  they  take  it  out  in  talking  about  lovers. 
Whether  Mademoiselle  So-and-so  is  now  the  friend 
of  this  or  that  secretary  or  attache  is  of  great 
moment  to  everybody,  it  seems.  On  the  strength 
of  this  news  some  dealer  in  jewelry,  rugs,  and  such 
may  call  on  the  gentleman  to  do  a  little  business. 
Some  modiste  or  couturiere  will  do  the  same  thing 
on  Mademoiselle.  When  this  happens  monsieur 
will  know  that  Pera  is  talking  about  him.  As  a 
rule,  he  does  not  have  to  wait  long  for  these 
calls. 

178 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

April  21st. 

Having  demonstrated  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
American  embassy  that  I  can  paddle  my  own  canoe, 
the  embassy  is  now  wiUing  to  have  me  help  them 
paddle  theirs  a  bit.  The  American  ambassador 
has  given  me  a  commission.  I  am  to  get  Captain 
Morton,  commander  of  the  American  stationnaire 
Scorpion,  and  Captain  Williams,  of  the  U.  S.  Coast 
Artillery,  now  attached  to  the  American  embassy 
for  relief  work,  to  the  Dardanelles  front. 

I  told  the  ambassador  I  could  not  manage  that, 
having  my  hands  full  looking  out  for  myself.  He 
was  sure  I  could  manage  it.  So  I  tried.  For  the 
time  being  the  chances  are  not  very  good.  Later 
they  may  improve.  That  is  the  word  I  got  from 
Enver  Pasha. 

There  is  a  tea  at  the  American  embassy  every 
Wednesday.  I  mention  that  because  to-day's  affair 
was  unusually  successful. 

The  American  embassy  teas  are  about  all  that 
remains  of  the  social  diplomatic  high-life  formerly 
enjoyed  at  Pera  in  the  winter,  and  at  Therapia 
in  the  summer.  There  was  a  time  when  the  Amer- 
ican embassy  was  not  so  much  in  demand  by  the 
socially  inclined.     But  that  time  is  not  just  now. 

The  Morgenthaus  are  charming  people.  Madame 
Morgenthau  has  a  knack  of  making  you  feel  at 
home.  Her  entertainments  are  simple  but  of  high 
quality — rather  refreshing  change  from  other  Amer- 
ican diplomatic  functions  where  they  tell  you  how 
many  dollars  the  tea  costs  per  pound  and  how  much 
they  have  to  pay  for  this  or  that  singer. 

And  at  the  Morgenthaus'  you  can  meet  every- 

179 


FROM   lUlIMJN   TO  BAGDAD 

IhkIv  worth  knowing  in  IVra.  To-diiy's  affair  was 
really  .spleiuUd.  Tlic  comi)aiiy  was  the  best.  Tlie 
Marquis  and  INIadame  Pallavicini,  the  Austro- 
Ilungarian  ambassadorial  couple,  and  all  the  Scan- 
dinavian ministers  and  their  wives  were  present. 
Several  German  and  Austro-Hungarian  diplomatic 
secretaries  concluded  the  list  of  people  from  that 
sphere  of  life. 

Fully  a  dozen  pashas  were  there.  Beys  by  the 
score.  Ex-ministers  and  senators  crowded  one 
another.  Officers  in  the  nattiest  of  Ottoman  uni- 
forms and  the  most  gorgeous  gold-domed  calpacs 
cracked  licels  and  bent  over  fair  ladies'  hands  with 
a  grace  that  comes  only  after  an  inoculation  with 
the  virus  Constantino'polus.  Some  of  those  Otto- 
man uniforms  were  worn  by  men  who  have  Prussia 
as  their  place  of  birth,  but  the  wearers  are  tanned 
enough  to  pass  for  Turks. 

There  were  rich  Perotes — Greek  merchants  in 
olive-oil  and  wine,  Armenian  traders  in  wool  and 
cotton  and  other  produce,  Persian  dealers  in  car- 
pets, rugs,  and  precious  stones,  and  Bulgar  cap- 
tains of  industry  of  various  sorts. 

They  all  had  their  ladies  with  them.  I  saw 
toilettes  that  would  make  the  rue  de  la  Paix  green 
with  envy.  Jewelry  had  lost  its  worth  and  charms 
in  that  assembly  of  matrons  and  demoiselles.  I 
saw  a  pearl  necklace,  thrown  carelessly  around  the 
shapely  throat  of  the  American  wife  of  a  Greek 
merchant  prince,  who  is  an  Italian  subject,  that 
would  keep  me  in  small  change  for  many  a 
day. 

Madame  Morgenthau  introduced  me  far  as  she 

180 


AN  AUDIENCE  WITH  THE  SULTAN 

could,  and  then  I  took  matters  into  my  own 
hands. 

You  walk  up  to  the  person  on  whom  you  wish 
to  press  your  acquaintance,  crack  your  heels,  lean 
forward  with  your  hands  hanging  idly  by  your 
side,  and  say  your  name — just  your  name  and  no 
more.  At  least  that  is  the  practice  in  Pera  now. 
I  am  told  that  formerly  you  excused  yourself  for 
the  intrusion  you  had  so  intentionally  managed. 
To  that  extent,  at  any  rate,  Pera  is  honest  and 
sincere.    But  only  to  that  extent — no  further. 

The  concert  arrangements  were  good.  I  can't 
say,  though,  that  I  have  a  keen  longing  to  hear  any 
of  the  artistes  again,  though  one  of  them,  a  contralto 
with  a  very  quivery  tremolo,  commanded  attention 
enough  to  let  her  appearance  be  the  signal  for  the 
cessation  of  the  lively  babbling  that  was  going  on. 
The  boy  virtuoso  on  the  fiddle  I  did  not  hear  at 
all,  being  just  then  engaged  in  conversation  with 
Halideh  Edib  Hannym  Effendi. 

April  22d. 

I  am  ready  for  a  trip  that  promises  to  be  a  wild- 
goose  chase.  I  am  to  go  to  Arabia,  or  some  other 
place,  to  meet  the  remnants  of  the  crew  of  the 
German  cruiser  Emden.  When  heard  from  the 
remnant  was  near  Hodeida  on  the  Red  Sea,  head- 
ing north  in  search  of  the  Fatherland.  Word  has 
now  been  received  that  Lieutenant  von  Muecke 
and  his  trusty  band  are  still  alive  and  somewhere 
in  the  interior  of  Arabia. 

Tears  come  into  my  eyes  when  I  think  that  for 
some  weeks  I  may  not  see  Stamboul  and  Pera, 

181 


FROM    15KRIJX  TO   BAGDAD 

ami  fears  croop  over  my  miml  wlion  I  think  what, 
may  happen  in  that  time  to  Constantinople — and 
to  the  service,  which  I  am  leaving  in  the  care  of  a 
professor  of  history  and  literature,  the  last  j)erson 
in  tile  world  qualified  to  be  a  "journalist." 


I 


s  > 


3.S 


VI 

Armenia's  red  caravan  of  sorrow 

THERE  had  been  much  talk  in  Constanti- 
nople, throughout  April,  of  trouble  between  the 
Turks  and  the  Armenians.  I  had  ascertained  that 
something  was  wrong,  but  had  failed  to  get  at  par- 
ticulars. In  the  Ottoman  Ministries  they  would 
not  discuss  the  question.  It  was  admitted,  how- 
ever, that  there  had  been  "slight  local  troubles." 
But  I  knew  just  a  little  better,  though  unable 
to  give  my  sources  of  information.  Several  de- 
spatches I  wrote  on  the  subject  were  suppressed  by 
the  Ottoman  censors  and  I  was  finally  told  that  the 
affair  was  over. 

Since  not  a  word  of  the  Armenian  uprisings  was 
permitted  to  be  published  in  Constantinople,  and 
since  there  was  a  most  rigorous  censorship  of  all 
telegrams  and  letters,  the  city  was  entirely  out  of 
touch  with  the  state  of  affairs  in  the  provinces. 
That  there  had  been  trouble  was  generally  known, 
but  even  the  best  evidence  obtainable  just  then 
favored  the  conclusion  that  nothing  serious  had 
happened. 

Such,  indeed,  was  the  general  impression.  The 
first  Armenian  troubles  started  in  the  Ottoman 

183 


FROM    HKRUN  TO   BAGDAD 

anni(\s  in  Ihc  Caucasus.  ISIany  of  llie  Armenian 
soldiers  had  fjone  over  to  Xhc  Russians.  The  result 
of  lliis  was  tJie  disarming'  of  all  Armenian  troops 
and  their  employment  in  the  rear  at  roatl-l)uilding' 
and  tlie  like.  As  yet  the  insurrection  had  not 
spread  into  the  Armenian  districts.  Tlie  Armenian 
civil  population  was  still  (juiet,  and  with  the  Ar- 
menian trooi)s  in  tlie  Ottonum  army  disarmed  the 
Ix^lief  prevailed  that  tlie  trouble  was  ended.  Such 
was  not  the  case,  however,  as  the  entries  in  my 
journal  show. 

Eski-Sheiiir,  Anatolia,  April  S3d. 

The  Anatolian  railroad  does  not  run  at  night. 
Why  that  should  be  so  I  do  not  understand.  The 
track  is  good  and  the  rolling  stock  is  in  excellent 
condition.  But  the  roatl  goes  to  sleep  every  evening. 
That  is  why  I  am  in  Eski-Shehir. 

Seen  on  the  map,  Anatolia  does  not  give  one 
the  impression  of  being  much  of  a  country.  Yet  I 
have  never  traveled  through  a  more  interesting 
one. 

From  Ilaidar  Pasha  to  Ismid  the  road  passes 
through  an  endless  variety  of  suburbs,  villas, 
tchiftliks,  gardens,  orchards,  olive  groves,  fields, 
and  hillsides  ui)on  which  young  and  old  shepherds 
mind  large  flocks  of  sheep  and  goats  in  true  Attikan 
style — they  play  the  flute  while  their  charges  graze; 
it  is  a  sort  of  a  i)astoral  table  dlwte  avec  orchestre. 

I  can  well  understand  why  the  old  Byzantians 
were  sore  when  the  Turks  took  over  all  there  was 
along  the  Gulf  of  Ismid.  For  scenery  the  country 
on  both  sides  of  the  gulf  is  hard  to  excel.     On  the 

181 


ARMENIA'S  RED   CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

north  shore  the  hills  rise  gently.  Fertile  acres  lie 
on  their  slopes  and  their  bases  are  wrapped  in 
the  most  luxurious  foliage  of  fruit-trees  one  can 
imagine.  This  is  the  home  of  the  cherry — so  it  is 
said — and  to  see  how  this  tree  flourishes  here  makes 
one  need  no  further  proof  of  the  assertion. 

Flowers  grow  in  profusion.  Just  now  it  seems 
to  be  the  turn  of  the  poppy  to  do  its  best.  It  does 
not  shirk  its  task.  The  red,  red  faces  in  the  high 
grass  nod  in  the  gentle  breeze  and  make  one  feel 
that  nature  is  indeed  generous. 

Little  tchiftliks  stud  the  country.  The  red  tile 
roofs  peep  from  the  parklike  gardens  most  coyly. 
In  the  field  a  span  of  black  water-buffaloes  strains 
faithfully  under  the  yoke.  You  notice  that  the 
plow  is  the  one  which  Adam  patented,  and  one 
wonders  how  such  crops  can  be  produced  by  so  prim- 
itive a  method  of  cultivation.  The  plow  is  nothing 
more  than  a  piece  of  wood  with  an  iron  point,  fas- 
tened to  a  straight  shaft.  How  can  such  a  primitive 
implement  raise  the  taxes  the  tchifflikdschi — plain 
Turkish  for  farmer — has  to  pay  and  then  keep 
himself  and  family  in  a  fair  measure  of  comfort.'^ 
But  it  does  it.    The  soil  is  rich  and  the  climate  good. 

On  the  gulf  stand  out  lateen  sails.  The  water  is 
clear,  so  that  one  can  see  even  the  patches  on 
the  sail  in  the  boat's  image.  Beyond  the  sail  lie 
red-roofed  villages,  hamlets,  and  tchiftliks.  Then 
the  ground  grows  steep.  Beyond  the  olive  groves 
and  vineyards  on  the  foothills  lie  pleasant  beech 
and  oak  forests.  The  higher  elevations  are  pre- 
ferred by  the  pines  and  birches,  and  finally  the  eye 
rests  on  the  half-naked  slopes  of  Mount  Olympus 

185 


FROM    HKRLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

— c)iio  of  the  many  mountains  of  tlial  name,  lliis 
one  having  ^vitH  tJic  Turks  ilio  name  Sultan  Dagli. 
But  there  are  as  man^y  Sultan  Daghs  as  there  are 
ISIount  Olyminises,  so  the  Turkish  name  does  not 
lielp  you  any. 

The  Ismicl  eountry  is  indeed  a  sort  of  paradise. 

Reached  Lake  Sahandcha  ahout  noon  and  had 
another  feast  in  scenery.  Its  beauty  excels  that  of 
many  a  Swiss  lake.  Near  Arifleli  the  railroad  runs 
through  a  rich  agricultural  district.  The  heights 
here  are  covered  with  tall  conifers  of  all  sorts. 

All  day  long  I  dashed  through  mulberry  plan- 
tations. Anatolia  produces  a  great  deal  of  the 
world's  silk.  They  would  plant  mulberry-trees  on 
their  roofs  here,  if  it  could  be  done.  The  busi- 
ness pays  well  according  to  Oriental  standards  of 
living. 

Passed  through  a  gorge  somewhere  that  was 
wildly  romantic.  Then  we  came  to  a  place  I  once 
read  of  in  history — Biledchik,  the  Belokoma  of  the 
Byzantians.  In  the  old  castle  above  the  town 
lived  the  beautiful  Nilfur  whom  Sultan  Orchan 
married  after  keei)ing  her  a  prisoner  for  a  time. 
The  story  is  very  interesting,  but  too  long.  At  any 
rate,  I  am  sure  she  had  the  sort  of  hair  F.  Swing 
likes  so  much  on  a  woman.  Nilfur  infused  the 
first  Byzantian  blood  into  the  padishah  family. 

As  the  train  pulled  out  of  Biledchik  some  Greek 
urchins  ran  alongside,  crying  for  gazettas  (news- 
papers). Having  a  goodly  supply  on  hand,  I 
earned  their  gratitude — maybe!  At  any  rate,  I  saw 
the  same  boys  again  half  an  hour  afterward,  when 
we  were  well  above  the  highest  of  the  town's  roofs, 

18G 


ARMENIA'S  RED  CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

having  needed  that  long  to  worm  our  way  up  the 
steep  escarpment  which  must  be  scaled  here  by 
the  railroad.  About  sundown  we  reached  the  crest, 
over  many  a  viaduct,  through  many  a  tunnel,  and 
over  many  a  steep  grade,  one  of  the  latter,  I  noticed, 
being  one  in  forty. 

The  crest  forms  the  divide  between  the  Anatolian 
hill  country  and  the  high  plateau.  To  the  north 
lies  a  country  as  rich  as  can  be  found,  to  the  south 
a  geological  roof  as  bare  as  they  make  them — so 
said  the  man  with  whom  I  share  my  compartment, 
an  inspector  of  the  Anatolian  railroad,  an  expatri- 
ated Pole.  I  was  to  look  out  for  the  "paved" 
mountains  that  we  would  see  to-morrow. 

We  reached  here  shortly  after  dark.  Took  a  spin 
about  town  in  an  araba,  and  saw  several  fine  mosques 
from  without.  The  place  is  interesting  for  the 
reason  that  it  is  the  cradle  of  Ottoman  p>ower,  and 
that  quite  recently  the  Ottoman  government  in- 
tended to  again  make  it  its  capital — almost  like  com- 
ing home  to  die. 

KoNiA,  Anatolia,  Afril  S^th. 

The  Polish  Anatolian  railroad  inspector  is  a  god- 
send. He  knows  this  country  like  a  book.  Outside 
of  Eski-Shehir  he  showed  me  some  of  the  farms  of 
the  Ottoman  crown — crown  lands.  Can't  say  that 
these  farms  are  very  up-to-date.  After  that  we 
ran  through  a  fine  batch  of  "paved"  mountains 
— massive  rocks  from  which  denudation,  brought 
on  by  the  lips  of  the  goat,  has  carried  the  last  bit 
of  soil.  The  daghs  (mountains)  have  fitting  names, 
I  noticed.    The  names  when  translated  mean  dry, 

187 


FUOM    HKHLIN   TO   HA(.1)AD 

black,  ^ray,  slaU\  lime,  llilrsty,  Imii^Ty,  and  similar 
unlovely  things. 

A  sign  at.  tlie  station  of  Duewer  said  we  were 
1,1'25  meters — about  [l,'M5  feet — above  sea-level. 
The  country  looked  it.  The  moimtains,  bare  of  all 
vegetation  and  soil,  the  valleys  buried  under  gravel 
and  other  denudation  dejxjsits,  and  the  water- 
courses, stained  wliite  with  alkali,  made  no  pleasant 
l)ieture. 

Alxjut  noon  we  reached  the  district  in  which  the 
Plirygians  were  supreme  once  upon  a  time.  To  the 
left  and  right  of  the  railroad  stand  to-day  the  cave 
cities  they  cut  into  the  soft  limerock.  One  of 
the  "buildings"  I  could  have  touched  with  my 
hands  from  the  car  window. 

It  was  built  in  this  way:  A  large  boulder  was 
selected  as  both  the  site  and  the  building  material. 
This  done,  the  good  Plnygian  set  to  work  with  his 
chisels  and  cut  out  what  rooms  he  wanted  to  have 
"built."  This  detail  attended  to,  he  carved  the 
external  architectural  details  into  the  "building" 
and  moved  in. 

By  noon  we  came  to  Afiun-Karahissar — the  Black 
Opium  Castle.  The  name  comes  from  the  fact 
that  the  lK)ppy  flourislies  here  as  it  will  nowhere 
else.  For  miles  and  miles  the  fields  stood  in  poppy 
crop — a  splendid  picture  of  greens  and  all  shades 
of  pink,  tlie  real  opium  poj^py  being  that  color. 

I  found  the  steep  castle  rocks  about  the  place 
very  interesting.  The  inspector  says  that  one  of 
the  ruins  is  the  remainder  of  a  castle  built  by  the 
Crusaders.  I  am  evidently  not  the  first  person  to 
come  this  way. 

188 


ARMENIA'S  RED   CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

Early  in  the  afternoon  the  inspector  showed  much 
interest  in  apples  and  that  sort  of  thing.  We  had 
come  to  Ak-Shehir,  the  ancient  Philomehon  of  Old 
Pisidia,  otherwise  known  as  Pomphilia,  I  think. 
Back  of  the  town  lies  the  original  Sultan  Dagh, 
home  of  the  apple,  peach,  and  grape.  Sultan  Dagh 
was  still  covered  with  snow,  and  innumerable 
streams  were  gushijig  down  its  massive  expanse. 
The  inspector  pointed  out  to  me  some  of  the  larger 
wild-apple  forests,  peach  forests,  and  the  like.  I 
suggested  that  in  such  a  climate  any  fruit  might 
grow  in  forests  and  that  this  was  not  necessarily 
proof  that  the  plant  had  originated  there.  In  the 
end  I  agreed  that  the  apple  might  be  autochthonous 
of  the  district — just  to  have  peace  in  the  compart- 
ment. 

But  the  Sultan  Dagh  is  something  really  worth 
while  in  mountains.  It  is  the  major  landmark  in 
all  that  country.  The  streams  and  river  coming 
from  its  vast  snowfields  make  that  part  of  Anatolia 
a  veritable  granary.  All  day  long  I  passed  through 
villages  whose  little  freight  stations  were  glutted 
with  wheat  ready  for  shipment.  Much  of  the  wheat 
had  been  exposed  to  rain  and  had  sprouted.  The 
inspector  said  that  his  road  had  not  been  able  to 
cope  with  the  traffic,  owing  to  the  heavy  military 
transports.  I  suggested  that  they  should  run  some 
of  their  trains  at  night. 

I  understand  that  Frederick  Barbarossa,  the 
Great  Crusader,  passed  this  way.  That  may  be, 
but  I  do  not  believe  the  heroic  yarn  which  claims 
that  his  enemies  were  so  thick  that  he  had  to  go 
clean  across  the  Sultan  Dagh.     The  plains  about 

189 


FROM    HERLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

[\\c  inoiiiilaiu  f;is|ju>ss  aro  wide,  and  a  much  Inciter 
reason  for  not  Ix'Iioviiig  tJiis  laic  of  an  ancient 
court  press  a^^Mit  is  thai  the  Sultan  Dagli  is  not 
negotiable  by  an  anny. 

BosANTi,  Anatolia,  April  25th. 

This  is  a  sorry  Sunday  night.  The  rain  beats 
down  upon  the  shack  which  I  share  with  an  Otto- 
man officer,  an  engineer,  who  lias  the  task  of  keeping 
the  pass  road  to  Tarsus,  through  the  Cilician  Gates, 
in  good  repair.  I  have  eaten  another  meal  from 
the  tin  can,  and  strewn  more  insect  ix)wder  upon 
the  couch  where  I  am  supposed  to  pass  the  night 
— if  the  l)ugs  will  let  me. 

Coming  out  of  Konia  this  morning  I  made  the 
acquaintance  of  a  very  interesting  chap — Mous- 
taphe  Nadir  EfTendi,  irrigation  engineer  and  im- 
perial irrigation  commissioner  for  the  Konia  plain 
irrigation  enterprise.  His  card  gives  this  full  in- 
formation. 

Thousands  and  thousands  of  acres  will  be  made 
I>roductive  when  the  great  irrigation  system  in  the 
making  here  has  been  completed.  Nadir  Effendi 
was  enthusiastic  over  it.  He  rattled  off  figures  in 
terms  of  cotton-bales  and  hundredweights  of  grain 
that  took  my  breath  away.  Two  lakes  are  being 
tapped  by  means  of  tunnels.  Most  of  the  work  has 
been  done.  The  plain  south  of  Konia  is  already  inter- 
sected by  irrigation  ditches  in  a  most  liberal  manner. 

After  running  through  another  Kuru  and  Bos 
Dagh  the  train  took  me  into  the  fertile  and  hot 
plains  of  Eregli,  the  UeraJdeia  of  the  ancients. 

Eregli  in  days  to  come  will  be  a  big  city  again. 

190 


I 


ARMENIA'S  RED  CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

The  plain  around  the  town,  and  the  neighboring 
valleys,  boast  of  a  rich  soil,  and  the  adjacent 
Cilician  Taurus  has  what  is  rare  in  the  East^ — 
primeval  forests  of  vast  extent.  It  is  asserted  that 
coal  is  to  be  found  not  far  from  the  city.  Certain 
it  is  that  the  Tchakyt  River,'  which  thunders  a 
few  paces  from  the  shack  I  am  in,  would  supply 
enough  hydro-electric  energy  to  make  Eregli  a 
manufacturing  center  of  no  mean  sort. 

Since  leaving  Konia  I  have  been  traveling  on  the 
international  bone  of  contention,  known  as  the 
Bagdad  Railroad.  The  Germans  and  English  had 
many  an  interesting  fight  in  notes  verbales  and 
memoires  about  this  line,  and  much  of  the  ani- 
mosity between  the  two  nations  is  due  to  it. 

It  is  a  good  line,  so  far  as  it  is  in  operation.  The 
roadbed  was  laid  down  to  last,  the  stations  are 
pretentious,  and  the  rolling  stock  could  show  itself 
anywhere. 

Beyond  Eregli,  the  building  of  the  line  required 
much  engineering  skill.  After  leaving  the  plain 
it  ascends  the  pass  in  the  northernmost  ridge  of  the 
Cilician  Taurus,  doing  this  in  a  series  of  ramps  or 
steep  grades.  At  Bulgurlu  the  road  is  1,056  meters 
above  sea-level;  twenty-nine  kilometers  further  on 
it  reaches  an  elevation  of  1,467  meters,  tjie  highest 
point  in  the  line  between  Haidar  Pasha  and  Bagdad. 

From  there  on  the  line  descends  toward  the 
Cilician  plain,  running  through  as  wild  a  bit  of 
mountain  country  as  one  can  find.  Mount  Aidost 
is  about  10,700  feet  high,  and  most  of  the  peaks 
arourid  it,  past  which  the  railroad  runs,  are  not 
much  lower.    Many  places  in  the  gorge  in  which  the 

13  191 


FROM    HER  UN    lO   HAC.DAD 

Ba.udad  Railroad  aiul  ilie  Tcliiikyl  River  crowd 
each  other  iie\er  see  the  sun  for  longer  than  tlu'ce 
lioiirs  every  day.  To  leave  room  for  the  wagon 
roail  the  rail  line  has  to  run  on  iiigh  stone  enihank- 
nients,  get  into  tunnels,  and  straddle  the  river  in 
many  i>laees. 

After  the  ride  across  the  flat  lands  of  Anatolia, 
the  trip  through  the  i)ass  was  a  treat.  I  have 
never  seen  anything  quite  so  i)icturesque,  nor  so 
majestic.  Above  you  the  peaks  of  lime  lose  their 
snow-covered  heads  in  the  clouds.  Further  down 
stand  old  forests  in  which  the  ax  has  never  been 
heard.  Then  come  alpine  meadows,  fields  pasted 
against  stee])  slopes,  vineyards  and  orchards,  and 
then  more  fields. 

The  wagon  road  meanders  along,  entering  a  cut 
here  and  crossing  the  river  on  a  camel-back  bridge 
there.  I  noticed  places  where  the  road  had  been 
shifted  four  times.  The  river  had  either  washed 
it  away  in  part  or  some  landslide  had  buried  it. 
Dozens  of  good  stone  bridges,  some  of  them  built 
by  the  Romans,  had  in  this  manner  become  use- 
less. The  road  had  to  be  led  some  other  way,  and 
the  bridge  could  no  longer  be  utilized. 

The  great  fall  of  the  river  is  made  use  of  by  many 
small  water-mills.  Little  donkeys  were  taking 
grain  to  these  mills,  and  others  were  taking  home 
the  flour. 

Many  of  the  villages  and  tchiftliks  are  far  above 
the  gorge — id;^'llic  spots  where  the  war  will  never 
be  a  reality.  The  father  or  son  may  never  come 
back,  but  the  war  itself  cannot  trouble  these  people. 
Yet  there  were  times  when  this  was  not  so.    There 

19!2 


ARMENIA'S  RED   CARAVAN   OF  SORROW 

was  a  time  when  through  this  gorge  tramped  the 
great  armies  of  antiquity. 

Passenger  service  on  the  Bagdad  Railroad  goes 
as  far  as  Bosanti.  That's  why  I  am  here.  There 
are  no  hotels,  no  restaurants,  no  stores,  no  town 
at  all.  Bosanti  is  the  camp  of  some  railroad  con- 
struction gangs,  and  some  Turkish  troops  who  keep 
in  repair  and  guard  the  great  pass  road  to  Tarsus. 
Some  day  Bosanti  will  be  something,  maybe.  To- 
night it  is  but  a  name. 

Kawak  Han,  Foothills  of  Taurus,  April  26th. 

A  memorable  day! 

As  if  to  convince  me  that  there  is  no  rest  for  the 
wicked,  a  mighty  babble  outside  of  the  shack  in 
Bosanti  woke  me  this  morning.  I  looked  at  my 
watch.  Five  o'clock!  Not  so  far  from  starting- 
time,  anyway.  But  what  was  the  cause  of  the  noise 
outside?  It  seemed  to  me  that  hundreds  of  women 
and  children  were  weeping,  crying,  sobbing,  talking, 
remonstrating,  scolding — all  at  the  same  time. 

It  was  still  dark  and  the  insect  powder  had  been 
very  efficacious,  so  I  turned  over  in  my  mind  the 
thought  of  sleeping  another  two  hours,  as  I  had 
planned.  The  Ottoman  pioneer  officer  was  slum- 
bering sweetly,  if  his  snoring  was  any  indication. 

But  the  noise  outside  would  not  cease.  I  poured 
some  water  in  the  rubber  wash-basin,  fished  some 
soap  out  of  my  baggage,  and  completed  a  hasty 
toilet. 

Then  I  stole  out  of  the  shack. 

Near  the  railroad  track  a  lamp  swung  from  a 
pole  in  the  chilly  morning  air.    It  was  raining.    The 

195 


FROM   BERLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

l;niipli<j:lil  sliowcxl  me  a  sea  of  wet  faces  and  wet 
tlolliing     those  of  women  ami  cliiklren,  mostly. 

^\llat  was  I  his?  ^Vere  these  peo|)le  passengers 
for  I  lie  morning  train?  They  were,  as  I  soon  found. 
'i'hese  wretches  were  Armenians  from  Tertiul  and 
/eitoiin.  But  what  were  they  doing  here?  Didn't 
1  know?  The  Armenians  at  Tertiul  and  Zeitoun 
had  massacred  a  Turkish  garrison  and  had  been 
banished  to  the  Anatolian  high  })lateau  to  atone 
for  the  crime.    All  of  which  was  hot  news  to  me. 

That  was  the  version  of  a  Turkish  soldier — the 
official  inter])reter  at  Bosanti. 

I  mixed  with  the  crowd.  None  of  them  sj)oke 
English,  French,  German,  or  anything  else  I  knew. 

All  they  could  say  was: 

^' Effcndcm,  ckmck!  Kurnym  (ulclidyr,  cjfc?idemf 
ekmekr  ("Sir,  give  me  bread.  I  am  liungiy.  Sir, 
give  me  bread"). 

Some  of  the  voices  were  feeble  from  hunger  and 
hardship.  I  could  tell  that  without  seeing  the  face 
of  the  speaker. 

I  circulated  among  the  crowd,  still  hoping  to 
find  somebody  able  to  speak  one  of  the  languages 
I  know. 

In  the  end  I  found  a  woman  who  spoke  English 
brokenly.  Unlike  lier  sisters  in  misery,  she  was  not 
dresseil  in  red  calico  trousers  and  red  waist.  She 
had  on  a  much-bedraggled  black  skirt,  and  across  her 
narrow  chest  and  shoulders  hung  a  large  woolen 
shawl.  She  was  soaked  with  the  rain  like  all  the 
othcr.s. 

\Miat  had  happened?  I  asked  her.  Where  was 
she  from?    Where  was  she  going  to? 

196 


ARMENIA'S  RED   CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

Her  story  was  very  incoherent.  I  made  out  that 
she  was  from  Zeitoun  and  bound  for  Konia  in 
banishment.  The  young  Armenians  of  Zeitoun, 
said  the  woman,  had  been  told  that  the  EngHsh 
and  French  had  taken  Constantinople  and  that  the 
Turkish  government  was  a  thing  of  the  past.  There- 
upon they  had  decided  to  do  away  with  the  Turkish 
garrison  of  Zeitoun.  The  barracks  of  the  Ottoman 
battaHon  stationed  in  the  town  was  attacked,  and 
in  the  fighting  a  good  many  Turks  had  been 
killed. 

For  two  days  the  Turks  had  held  their  own, 
however.  Then  reinforcements  had  come  up,  ob- 
liging the  Armenian  comitadjis  to  seek  refuge  in  an 
Armenian  monastery  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town. 
This  had  been  shelled  by  the  Turks.  But  the 
Armenians  had  fought  their  way  out  of  the  trap 
they  were  in  and  liad  gotten  safely  into  the  moun- 
tains. Then  the  Turks  had  rounded  up  all  the 
inhabitants  of  Zeitoun,  and  had  sent  the  able- 
bodied  men  in  one  direction,  and  the  old  men, 
women,  and  children  in  another — toward  Konia. 

I  fetched  some  biscuits  for  the  woman,  and  while 
she  ate  them  I  cross-examined  her.  There  was 
little  else  to  tell,  it  seemed.  The  poor  soul's  mind 
had  been  under  such  a  stress  that  she  could  re- 
member very  few  details. 

In  some  cases  the  Turkish  officials  had  permitted 
the  Armenians  to  carry  with  them  a  few  of  their 
household  goods  and  some  food.  The  Armenians 
from  the  rural  district  about  Zeitoun  had  also  been 
allowed  to  take  jmrt  of  their  live  stock  with  them. 
The  artisans  who  had  proven  that  they  were  not 

197 


FROM    BERLIN   TO   RAC.DAD 

impliealod    in    tho   ivvoll    had    l»eeii   permitted   to 
take  witli  tliein  llieir  tools. 

Dayli^dit  crept  over  tlie  high  peaks  and  ridges. 
It  eoiitimied  to  rain.  Tlie  exiles  went  on  lamenting 
and  calling  for  bread.  Children  whined  i)iteously. 
Old  men  groaned.  Whatever  fortitude  there  was 
was  shown  hy  the  older  women.  Stoically  they 
sat  about  on  the  wet  groinul,  their  lean,  brown 
hands  folded  over  their  shins. 

Well,  there  was  nothing  I  could  do  for  these 
miserable  beings.  About  seven  I  drank  a  cup  of 
black  coffee,  and  then  climbed  into  the  yailah  that 
was  waiting  to  take  me  to  Tarsus. 

I  had  asked  the  pioneer  officer  what  would  hap- 
pen to  the  exiles.  He  didn't  know.  During  the  day 
cattle-cars  would  come  from  Eregli  to  take  them 
away.  He  had  no  food  to  give  them.  They  would 
get  something  to  eat  in  Eregli. 

Along  the  road  I  noticed  more  of  the  exiles. 
ISIost  of  them  were  men  advanced  in  ;s'ears.  They 
had  taken  possession  of  the  little  hans  (road  inns), 
and  tliey  were  drinking  coffee  and  eating  bread 
which  they  liad  bought  there. 

At  about  nine  o'clock  my  yailah,  a  sort  of  covered, 
four-wheeled  carriage,  reached  the  little  plateau 
of  Tekir,  made  famous  by  the  elaborate  fortifica- 
tions which  Ibrahim  Pasha,  the  Egyptian,  caused 
to  be  erected  there  in  183G,  during  his  campaign 
against  the  Turks. 

Such  weather!  A  driving  cold  rain  was  coming 
down  in  torrents.  There  was  much  snow  in  it. 
The  road  was  muddy  to  a  depth  of  a  foot. 

There  was  something  wrong  with  the  harness, 

VM 


ARMENIA'S  RED   CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

so  the  arabachhi  pulled  up  to  mend  it.  That  was  a 
chance  for  nie  to  see  the  country,  since  the  low 
roof  of  the  yailah  had  hampered  my  vision.  I 
leaned  out  of  the  carriage.  Splendid  scenery,  de- 
spite the  bad  weather!  Above  me  frowned  a  huge 
parapet  of  limestone,  9,000  feet  high.  To  the  right 
yawned  an  abyss,  fully  600  feet  deep,  without  a 
break  in  its  walls.  In  front  of  me  lay  a  narrow 
slit,  a  mere  cleft  in  the  mountain  masses — the 
Cilician  Gates— the  ancient  Pylcp  Cilicice. 

I  was  indeed  on  historic  ground.  This  way  had 
come  and  gone,  in  victory  and  defeat,  most  of  the 
armies  of  the  ancients.  The  great  generals  of  an- 
tiquity had  passed  along  this  very  road — names 
who  in  my  youth  had  roused  all  the  fire  of  heroship 
within  me — Xerxes,  Darius,  Cyrus,  Alexander  the 
Macedonian,  scores  of  others. 

Through  the  pass  had  disgorged  upon  peaceful 
peoples  the  wild  hordes  of  history's  twilight  zone, 
followed  by  the  armies  of  Chaldea,  Assyria,  Baby- 
lonia, Persia,  Media,  Egypt,  Judea,  Phoenicia, 
Syria,  Parthia,  Phrygia,  Greece,  Rome,  Arabia, 
and  the  Crusaders. 

Those  walls  about  me  had  heard  the  chant  of 
victory  and  the  wail  of  defeat;  had  resounded  with 
the  tramp  of  rugged  foot  and  horse;  had  heard  the 
death-rattle  of  the  captives  unable  to  drag  them- 
selves to  a  less  forbidding  place  of  death. 

What  stories  those  rocks  could  tell  if  their  tongues 
could  be  loosed,  I  thought.  Stories  of  national 
and  racial  aspirations  and  personal  ambition  real- 
ized, and  stories  of  all  hope  abandoned.  How 
many  captives  had  passed  them  with  "the  light 

199 


FROM   BERTJN  TO  BAGDAD 

of  lliclr  eves  i>uf  out"  niid  tlie  "sound  of  their 
loni^iu's  forever  1;ik<Mi  from  iliem,"  as  says  an 
Assyrian  s-t('lc.  How  many  rai)live  women  had 
luM-e  of  ni^dils  mourned  tlieir  loves  and  wept  over 
their  fate,  and  how  many  had  liere  made  up  their 
mind  to  be  some  other's  "i)aramour  in  a  far  and 
distant  hind"? 

Fixing'  liarness  is  no  easy  matter,  if  you  don't 
know  how.  T  eoneluded  tliat  my  arahadshi  knew 
how,  but  tliat  he  luid  a  rather  difficult  job  on  his 
hands.  So  I  })usied  myself  with  my  binoculars, 
viewed  the  fields  against  some  low^er  slope,  wandered 
up  and  down  the  narrow  alleys  of  a  mountain  vil- 
lage, counted  the  cattle  and  sheep  in  an  alpine 
meadow,  and  measured  some  of  the  tall  pines  near 
by.  They  were  venerable  old  giants.  That  they 
had  not  been  cut  was  not  the  fault  of  man,  but  a 
virtue  of  the  inaccessible  places  they  stood  in. 
Everywhere  I  saw  patches  of  deciduous  trees — 
just  taking  on  their  sunnner  dress — but  conifers 
predominated.  High  up  there  was  some  stunted 
growth,  and  then  beyond  that  boulder  fields  that 
looked  as  if  Cyclops  had  tired  of  his  job  in  Mount 
Vesuvius  and  had  come  here.  Around  the  snow- 
line of  the  mighty  range  drifted  thin  cloiuls,  promise 
that  the  weather  would  imjjrove  during  the  after- 
noon, according  to  my  driver. 

But  what  was  that.''  Coming  around  the  Ijend 
of  the  old  pass  road  was  a  caravan,  afoot  and 
clothed  in  red — a  dirty,  wet  red. 

More  Armenians!  I  could  not  see  the  pass  road 
near  or  beyond  the  actual  gates,  but  some  two 
miles  farther  on  a  short  stretch  of  it  was  visible. 

200 


ARMENIA'S  RED   CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

Either  the  train  of  sorrow  extended  that  far  or  this 
was  a  new  one. 

The  arabadshi  had  finally  gotten  under  way  again. 
He  was  inclined  to  go  off  at  a  smart  pace,  but  I 
cautioned  him  with  several  y awash!  y awash!  (slow! 
slow !) .  I  wanted  to  have  a  good  look  at  the  Armenian 
exiles.     I  might  be  able  to  file  a  story  from  Tarsus. 

Old  men  in  rags;  women  in  red  calico  pantaloons, 
red  waists,  red  shawls,  and  some  of  them  in  red 
veils;  children  of  all  ages,  dressed  like  their  elders; 
the  halt,  the  blind,  the  sick  made  up  this  miserable 
column. 

Stoically  they  drudged  on.  Some  of  the  men 
glanced  at  me  furtively.  The  older  women  begged 
for  bread,  the  younger  ones  pulled  either  their 
veils  or  their  shawls  over  their  faces.  They  seemed 
to  fear  that  I  might  hurt  them. 

The  crowd  stepped  readily  out  of  the  way  of  the 
carriage,  and  I  had  trouble  keeping  the  driver  from 
going  off  at  a  trot.  I  could  see  that  the  road  ahead 
was  very  narrow,  especially  in  the  gate,  and  I  was 
not  minded  to  have  an  accident  on  my  hands. 

It  was  well  that  I  had  taken  this  precaution. 
Beyond  the  bridge  across  the  Tarsus  Tchai  the 
crowd  was  dense.  A  few  high-wheeled  ox-carts 
hove  in  sight.  They  were  packed  with  light  bag- 
gage and  children.  I  saw  some  cows  in  the  train. 
Children  rode  on  them.  On  other  cows  and  steers 
packs  were  carried. 

The  spectacle  was  pitiful.  The  rain  was  still 
coming  down  in  a  cold  drizzle.  It  was  cold  up  in 
that  elevation — a  sort  of  March  weather.  Few  of 
the  exiles  had  shoes;  all  of  them  were  soaked  to 

201 


FROM   BERLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

\\\v  skin,  Iho  clolhing  lianj[^infj  to  the  weary  bodies 
lini})  aiul  wot.  All  faces  showed  suffering — hunger, 
(^xposure  lo  the  cold  and  wi>t,  together  with  mental 
anguish  about  their  kin  and  the  future. 

An  old  woman  led  a  blind  man  by  the  hand.  The 
woman  was  bent  with  age  and  sorrow.  The  man 
walked  beside  her  ereet.  A  great  white  beard  was 
flowing  ov(>r  his  broad  and  naked  chest.  His  face 
had  something  noble  in  it — maybe  nothing  more 
than  the  resignation  to  do  without  sight  forever. 
The  empty  eye-sockets  w^ere  directed  upward  in 
search  of  tlie  blessing  that  never  came. 

In  the  wet  grass  by  the  roadside  lay  an  old 
woman.  I  halted  the  yailah  to  see  if  anytJiing 
could  be  done  for  her.  She  was  still  alive,  I  found. 
I  poured  some  brandy  betw^een  her  teeth.  She 
opened  her  eyes  and  w4th  them  motioned  me  away. 
I  suppose  she  wanted  to  die  in  peace. 

Near  a  bridge  a  cart  had  fallen  into  the  ravine 
in  which  the  river  runs.  The  dead  oxen  were  still 
in  the  yoke.  From  under  the  wreckage  protruded 
parts  of  four  human  bodies.  On  the  other  side  I 
passed  the  body  of  a  dead  man.  He  was  young. 
It  seemed  to  me  that  tuberculosis  had  been  the 
cause  of  his  death. 

Five  miles  I  had  gone,  and  still  there  was  no 
break  in  the  column.  Since  the  exiles  walked  in 
groups  and  preserved  no  uniform  marching  order, 
I  could  not  estimate  their  number.  All  I  can  say 
is  that  the  exiles  numbered  no  less  than  4,000. 

Then  I  came  to  the  stragglers.  The  picture 
grew  yet  more  liarassing.  It  was  composed  of 
men  and  women  trying  to  help  some  sick  relative 

202 


ARMENIA'S  RED   CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

or  friend  along.  Some  of  them  sat  by  the  wayside, 
tired  and  disconsolate,  while  the  object  of  their 
care  lay  in  the  wet  grass,  resting  or  asleep.  Two  men 
were  digging  a  grave.  I  passed  a  woman  who  was 
groaning  under  the  weight  of  a  large  boy  she  car- 
ried on  her  back.  To  judge  by  the  size  of  the  child's 
head,  I  should  say  that  he  was  a  cretin  and  not  in 
control  of  his  withered  limbs.  Another  woman 
was  leading  a  blind  man.  More  carts  with  sick 
and  children  aboard  came,  their  screeching  wheels 
filling  the  ravine  with  dismal  sounds. 

It  was  afternoon  before  I  got  beyond  the  red 
train  of  misery.  The  sun  had  come  out.  The  horses 
had  been  fed  and  rested  at  a  han,  and  we  were 
going  along  at  a  fast  clip  to  make  good  the  time 
we  had  lost. 

A  new  picture! 

As  we  made  a  bend  in  the  road  in  the  foot-hills, 
I  heard  the  sound  of  a  Jcawal,  a  fife,  and  a  drum. 
I  thought  at  first  that  some  soldiers  might  be 
coming  up  the  road,  and  cautioned  the  driver. 
But  that  was  not  the  case.  Several  hundred  Ar- 
menian soldiers  were  sitting  by  the  roadside,  break- 
ing rock.  The  Turkish  officer  in  charge  of  the  party 
explained  that  there  was  less  intention  in  the  music 
to  entertain  than  design  to  get  the  work  done. 
The  "band"  was  employed  to  make  the  working- 
party  keep  time  with  the  hammers,  more  rock 
being  crushed  in  that  manner.  He  had  hit  upon 
the  plan  himself,  said  the  officer. 

The  Armenians,  I  learned,  were  part  of  a  regi- 
ment which  had  just  been  disbanded  and  disarmed. 

"We  cannot  trust  them  any  longer,"  explained 

203 


FROM   RERUN   TO   BAGDAD 

tlu'  ofTlccr.  "So  we  look  llioir  arms  away  from 
UitMii  ;iii<l  i>nl  them  lo  work  im|)roving  tlio  roads." 

\\v  lia<l  ton  Turkisli  iiilaiilrymon  to  control  the 
party  ol'  lu-arly  500  Armenians.  I  wondered  how 
he  managed  to  liokl  them  In  check. 

"Oh,  tJiey  are  easily  managed,"  he  remarkeil, 
lightly.  "The  first  one  who  makes  a  false  move 
dies."  The  officer  ])alted  his  revolver.  "You  know 
the  Turkish  i)roverl),  *(iod  made  the  hare,  the 
snake,  and  tlie  Armenian'?" 

And  still  what  could  the  Armenians  do.'*  They 
might  have  butchered  the  few  Tiu'ks  who  stood 
sentry  over  them,  and  could  then  have  taken  to 
the  mountains,  to  be  hunted  down  one  by  one  or 
starve  to  death. 

Tarsus,  April  27th. 

Arrived  here  late  last  night.  Am  installed  with 
a  Greek  family — all  hans  and  hotels  being  full  be- 
cause to-day  is  tlie  anniversary  of  the  ascension  to 
the  throne  of  Mohammed  Rechad  Klian  V,  Sultan 
of  the  Ottoman  Empire,  Caliph  of  all  the  Faithful, 
etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

I  viewed  the  patriotic  exercises  in  the  Konak 
(government  building)  this  morning.  Afterward  I 
called  upon  the  kaimmakam  to  get  information 
concerning  the  Armenian  trouble. 

The  pasha  did  not  say  much.  He  regretted  it 
all.  The  affair  had  given  him  no  end  of  trouble. 
Yesterday  he  had  commandeered  every  wheeled 
vehicle  in  Tarsus  and  vicinity  to  get  the  Armenians 
to  Bosanti.  It  had  not  helped  nmch.  Most  of 
them  had  been  obliged  to  go  afoot. 

204 


ARMENIA'S  RED   CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

I  knew  all  that.  How  had  the  trouble  started? 
He  didn't  know  exactly  as  yet.  The  matter  was 
being  investigated  by  officials  of  the  vilayets  af- 
fected by  the  revolt.    It  was  a  sad  affair! 

I  agreed  with  him  on  that  point  and  asked  for 
his  assistance  in  getting  a  despatch  to  my  "base" 
man  in  Constantinople, 

"I  would  like  to  help  you,"  said  the  pasha, 
"but  to  be  frank  with  you  and  not  have  you 
waste  your  effort,  I  do  not  think  it  can  be  done. 
Wait  until  you  get  to  Adana.  The  vali  there 
has  the  authority  to  act  in  the  matter.  I  have 
not." 

The  pasha  was  frank  and  polite,  and  with  Adana 
but  forty  kilometers  away  I  thought  it  best  not 
to  press  the  point. 

In  the  Cilician  Plain,  April  29th. 

I  am  the  guest  of  a  Bedouin  sheik  to-night.  Left 
Tarsus  in  a  hack,  bound  for  Adana,  got  caught  be- 
tween two  rivers  running  over  from  the  heavy 
rains,  and  finally  gained  this  hill.  There  is  a  flood 
all  around.  The  elevation  in  question  must  be 
one  of  the  signal-hills  of  the  Romans.  At  any  rate, 
it  rises  out  of  the  plain  without  good  geological 
reasons.  My  driver,  when  he  spied  the  black, 
goat-hair  tents  on  the  hill,  refused  to  go  on  to 
Adana,  saying  something  about  a  river  further  on 
that  would  surely  drown  us. 

Anyway,  I  am  sitting  on  a  dry  rug,  and  the  goat- 
hair  fabric  around  me  and  above  me  is  botli  water- 
and  air-proof.  The  sheik  is  busy  with  something 
outside — ^maybe  the  evening  meal.     He  has  made 

205 


IMJOM    l?i;i{LIN     IX)    BA(.l)Al) 
sov<'nil  |>a.ssi\s  ol"  liis  liaiid  lo  the  mouth.     That  is 


sov<M*al  |>a.ssi\s  o\  In 

always  a  s^'ood  si^ni. 

Aflor  tho  inoal. 


Had  plenty  of  jiilalV  and  ,s-Jiish-kcbah.  A  servant 
of  the  slu'ik's  hroii.ulil  in  [he  sliift'  on  a  large  W()o<I(  n 
I)lall(T.  TluMi  llu>  two  of  ns  squatted  down  and 
ate.  There  hein^'  no  spoon,  I  followed  the  example 
of  the  sheik  by  making  a  sort  of  shovel  of  the  i)an- 
cake-hke  bread  of  whieh  the  servant  brought  in  a 
staek.  Not  a  bad  meal!  After  the  pilaff,  etc.,  Ave 
had  a  sort  of  sweetmeat,  flavored  ad  nauseam  wilJi 
\ery  rancid  mutton  fat — the  sort  they  render  from 
the  caudal  ornament  of  the  fat-tailed  sheep. 

IJnl  I  lie  sheik's  coffee  drove  away  that  awful 
taste,  though  it  was  long  in  the  making.  P'irst 
the  slu'ik  had  the  servant  bring  into  the  tent  a  small 
inangal  with  live  coals  in  it.  From  a  sort  of  car- 
pet bag  he  took  a  small  metal  pan  fastened  to  a 
liandle — a  roaster.  Then  he  brought  a  sheep's 
bladder  from  a  pocket  of  his  brown  burnoose. 

I  got  the  idea  by  that  time,  but  still  had  that 
taste  in  my  mouth.  From  the  bladder  bag  the 
sheik  took  some  green  coffee  beans  and  put  them 
into  the  roaster.  They  were  roasted  quickly  enough, 
but  there  was  no  coffee  yet. 

Another  search  of  the  carpet  bag  produced  a 
cylindrical  coffee-grinder.  Away  he  ground  and 
ground  and  ground,  while  the  servant  was  bring- 
ing the  mixture  of  water  and  sugar  to  the  boiling- 
point. 

Four  times  the  aromatic  beverage  in  the  dirty 
little  i)ot  had  to  rise  in  protest  before  the  sheik 
filled  two  small  cups  and  handed  one  to  me. 


ARMENIA'S  RED   CARAVAN   OF  SORROW 

Ad  ANA,  Syria,  April  30th. 

That  sheik  proved  to  be  one  of  nature's  gentle- 
men. He  made  me  comfortable  in  his  tent,  with 
all  the  carpets  and  rugs  he  could  find.  He  even 
took  some  away  from  his  women  folk  in  another 
tent. 

Since  I  could  not  make  myself  entirely  clear  to 
either  my  driver  or  the  sheik,  I  had  a  hard  time 
making  my  host  understand  that  in  other  parts  of 
the  world  it  is  considered  very  good  taste  to  pay 
for  one's  keep.  When  I  offered  the  sheik  a  little 
hard  cash  he  held  up  his  hands  in  horror.  Then 
he  smiled  obligingly. 

So  I  thanked  the  son  of  the  desert  in  Turkish, 
which  he  could  not  understand,  his  own  regular  lan- 
guage being  Arabic.  At  any  rate,  we  parted  the 
best  of  friends. 

I  must  vote  this  place  the  least  attractive  I  have 
seen.  The  houses  have  a  neglected  look  about  them 
and  the  poorly  paved  streets  are  anything  but  clean. 

But  that  is  not  all.  Adana's  recent  history  is 
repulsive,  loathsome.  In  1909  the  Armenian  popu- 
lation, three-quarters  of  a  total  population  of 
about  50,000,  was  decimated  by  massacre.  How 
many  Armenians  perished  I  did  not  learn,  but 
estimates  given  me  by  residents  placed  the  number 
at  about  11,000.  Race  hatred  has  no  such  monu- 
ment anywhere. 

A  good  half  of  the  town  is  still  in  ruins.  The 
quarter  in  which  the  Armenians  formerly  lived  is 
a  vast  field  of  roofless  and  windowless  walls. 
Though  the  heavy  rains  which  fall  in  the  Cilician 
Plain  have  washed  ojff  much  of  the  smoke-stain  and 

14  207 


v\un\  liKni-iN  TO  ]U(;i)Ai> 

soot,  one  can  still  ft)rm  a  j^ood  picture  of  tJic  con- 
flagration tliat  rai^otl  here  while  X\w  Kurd  Initcliors 
of  tlio  Turks  i>ut  the  i>oi)ulalion  to  the  sword,  knife, 
and  l)ayonet. 

No  quarter  was  shown  by  these  fiends.  The 
younj?  and  agjed,  strong  and  weak,  man,  woman, 
aud  chihl,  ]>erishe<l  that  awful  afternoon  and  night. 
An<l  it  was  not  even  death  in  a  quick  form  that 
overtook  tlieni.  TJie  Kurds  set  out  on  tliat  day 
to  estahhsli  for  their  <h'sj)ieal)le  race  of  beasts  of 
burden  a  new  record  in  brutahty.  To  diseni])owel 
their  victims  and  then  let  them  h'nger  on  in  agony 
was  tlieir  favorite  procedure  on  that  terrible  day. 
Nothing  more  shocking  has  ever  been  heard  of. 

The  tortures  to  which  many  of  the  men  w^ere 
subjected  are  quite  indescribable.  Let  the  state- 
ment suffice  that  mutilation  was  only  a  part  of 
them.  But  the  women  fared  worse  yet.  The 
German  consul  at  Adana  is  my  authority  for  this 
statement.  He  saw  some  of  the  Kurds  open  the 
abdomen  of  enceinte  women  with  their  knives  and 
tear  from  the  living  body  the  pregnant  womb. 

Be  it  said  to  the  credit  of  the  official  that  he 
single-handedly  charged  a  group  of  these  Kurd 
butchers,  but  was  overpowered  and  knocked  sense- 
less by  them.  He  would  have  been  killed  himself 
had  not  a  Turkish  officer  recognized  him  in  good 
time. 

I  need  not  dwell  on  a  full  list  of  the  deviltries 
that  were  perpetrated  that  day.  What  befell  the 
younger  women  and  girls  may  be  imagined.  In 
the  end  even  they  were  butchered  in  the  most 
revolting  manner. 

208 


ARMENIA'S  RED  CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

Meanwhile,  the  Armenian  quarter  was  in  flames 
— a  white-hot  furnace.  Many  of  the  Armenians 
had  barricaded  themselves  in  their  houses.  The 
fact  that  but  a  few  had  firearms  made  defense 
diflScult,  and  so  it  came  that  many  of  the  houses 
that  were  not  fired  by  the  Kurds  were  set  ablaze 
by  those  within.  It  was  far  better  to  die  in  the 
flames  than  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  fiends 
outside. 

The  Adana  massacre  is  one  of  the  things  that 
must  cause  us  to  consider  whether  or  not  the  Turk 
has  a  right  to  rule  others.  I  suppose  that  question 
is  easily  answered.  A  government  that  tolerates 
mob  violence,  or  which  even  encourages  it,  is  so 
low  and  contemptible  a  thing  that  nothing  what- 
ever can  be  said  in  its  favor. 

The  Ottoman  authorities  at  the  time  excused 
themselves,  and,  strange  to  say,  had  this  excuse 
accepted  by  the  polite  governments  of  the  entire 
world.  The  statement  sufficed  that  the  horde  of 
Kurd  and  Turkish  soldiers  who  perpetrated  this 
most  vicious  crime  of  our  age  had  become  umnan- 
ageable.  That  means  that  soldiers  in  this  instance 
became  a  mob  and  acted  like  one,  quite  the  last 
thing  that  should  be  condoned  in  a  government. 

That  the  men  in  Stamboul  did  not  issue  an  order 
for  the  massacre  may  be  believed,  but  that  does 
not  absolve  them.  A  government  that  cannot 
even  control  its  own  army  is  no  government  at 
all,  and,  being  that,  it  has  no  raison  d'etre.  There 
is  another  aspect  of  the  case.  A  government  may 
not  always  be  able  to  protect  every  person  within 
its  domain,  but  it  must  be  able  to  afterward  pun- 

209 


FROM   BERLIN  TO   BAGDAD 

isli  the  crime  conimiltod — and  punish  tliat  crime 
in  such  a  manner  that  tlie  punishment  will  be  a 
(lotorrent  to  others.  For  mob  violence  there  can 
be  nothing  but  reprisal. 

Even  in  this  the  Ottoman  government  failed. 
Instead  of  hanging  the  entire  garrison  of  Adana, 
one  half  for  taking  part  in  the  massacre  and  the 
other  half  for  not  coming  to  the  assistance  of  the 
Armenians,  the  troops  were  transferred  and  a  few 
of  the  leaders  of  the  riot  were  shot.  But  this 
leniency  toward  these  vile  brutes  may  have  been 
due  to  the  disinclination  of  tlie  government  to 
let  the  Armenians  have  justice — to  put  it  mildly. 

I  spent  a  day  among  the  ruins.  It  was  a  sad 
siglit.  The  rectangular  spaces  formeil  ])y  the  bleak 
walls  were  filleil  witli  tlie  debris  of  tlie  upper  floor 
and  roof.  Broken  furniture,  rusty  bedsteads,  de- 
cayed mattresses,  and  the  remains  of  other  house- 
hold furnishings  could  still  be  seen.  I  was  told  that 
hundreds  of  bodies  were  still  under  the  debris. 
On  the  window-sills  flourished  grass,  and  vines 
from  the  neglected  gardens  had  crept  over  the 
walls.  Here  and  there  the  branches  of  trees  had 
spread  across  the  ruins.  It  was  a  beautiful  day 
and  one  could  not  help  thinking  of  the  line: 

Where  only  man  is  vile. 

OsMANiEii,  Syria,  May  2d. 

On  the  road  again — this  time  trying  to  get  over 
the  Amanus  range. 

I  am  spending  the  first  night  in  my  young  life 
in  a  regular  Turkish  han.     The  place  looks  most 

210 


ARMENIA'S  RED  CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

uninviting.  But  there  is  some  European  company 
— two  very  taciturn  Germans,  whom  I  met  on  the 
train  from  Adana  and  who  confess  to  be  going  to 
Aleppo — I  mean,  who  aver  that. 

It  is  their  baggage  that  excites  my  curiosity. 
Each  of  them  has  a  small  trunk,  and  the  two  of 
them  together  have  about  a  dozen  of  sheet-iron 
boxes  about  the  size  of  a  large  suit-case.  The 
things  are  very  heavy,  as  I  discovered  when, 
innocent-like,  I  tried  to  help  them  get  the  things 
on  the  wagon.    We'll  see! 

There  are  all  kinds  of  epidemic  disease  in  this 
town — everything  "blessed"  Syria  has  in  that  line, 
cholera  and  typhus  not  overlooked.  I  propose  to 
pass  the  night  on  the  gallery.  I  arrived  at  that 
conclusion  after  I  had  surveyed  the  little  cubicle  of 
a  room  assigned  me.  The  building  must  be  at 
least  a  century  old  and  it  has  never  been  ren- 
ovated. The  room  may  have  been  cleaned 
occasionally.  It  certainly  has  not  been  swept  in 
a  week. 

There  is  a  peculiar  sort  of  bed  in  the  room — a 
board  with  a  narrow  and  thin  cotton  mattress  on 
it.  On  the  mattress  lies  a  sheet  which  once  was 
white,  but  which  is  now  of  an  asphalt  color.  The 
pillow-case  is  not  much  better  oflF,  and  the  one 
blanket  is  black,  heavy,  and  stiff  with  dirt.  A 
small  home-made  table  of  pine  and  a  rickety  chair 
complete  the  furnishing.  The  floor  is  bare  and 
dusty,  and  the  walls  are  black  with  smoke.  There 
is  no  fireplace,  of  course,  and  since  the  winter  in 
the  Cilician  Plain  is  often  severe,  a  viangal  is  put 
in  the  room.    When  the  charcoal  is  not  well  burnt 

211 


FROISr   JU'.HMN    TO   BAGDAD 

throu^li  .-111  uiicomforlahU*  amouiil  of  smoke  is 
^'t'tuM-ali><l  by  llio  in(i)i(](il  iire. 

Bui  \\w  /kin  is  an  inlorosting  place.  The  build- 
ing, like  most  otiiors  of  its  type,  is  in  the  form  of  a 
*'U,"  a  (juaclrangle  open  at  one  side.  A  wooden 
gallery  around  the  yard  gives  access  to  the  rooms. 
In  places  this  gallery  has  sagged,  so  that  one  gets 
the  sensation  ol"  walking  on  a  roof. 

JMost  of  the  guests  turned  in  early.  With  a  long 
overland  journey  beJiind  them,  and  another  before 
tJiem,  they  were  a  tired  lot.  There  being  no  eating- 
place  attached  to  the  han,  the  guests  ate  anywhere 
and  anything  they  had  brought  with  them.  -I  did 
the  same.  With  tJie  filthy  yard  reeking  witli  every 
smell  imaginable,  that  was  not  easy,  and  the  un- 
lovely habits  of  the  camels  thrown  in,  or  out  (those 
who  have  traveled  in  the  East  will  understand), 
eating  was  not  an  enjoyable  task. 

The  crowd  in  the  ha?i  is  an  interesting  lot. 
Its  most  inviting  members  are  the  Turkish  officers. 

Many  of  them  are  on  leave  of  absence  from  the 
Caucasus  and  Suez  Canal  region.  They  have 
traveled  far,  but  do  not  show  it.  The  unifonns  of 
most  of  them  are  spick  and  span.  Faces  are  shaven 
and  clean,  and  show  a  good  spirit. 

The  other  guests  seem  to  come  from  all  parts 
of  the  empire.  Those  in  store  clothing  are  Greeks 
and  Armenians,  and  Syrians  of  the  city.  Business 
of  one  sort  or  another  causes  them  to  move  about 
in  these  parlous  times. 

The  men  in  the  cloaks — burnooses — and  fezes  and 
turbans  would  make  a  fine  side-show  in  any  circus. 
They  are  a  most  picturesque  assembly.    Headgear 

212 


ARMENIA'S  RED  CARAVAN  OF  SORROW 

divides  them,  for  me,  at  least,  into  Syrians,  Bed- 
ouins, Arabs,  Persians,  Kurds,  and  Turkomans. 
I  suppose  some  expert  could  split  them  up  better. 

What  the  business  of  these  travelers  may  be  is 
not  so  easily  determined.  The  camel-trains  in  the 
yard  belong  to  them.  The  many  bales  of  merchan- 
dise the  animals  brought  in  seem  to  contain  mostly 
wool,  finished  textiles,  and  carpets  and  rugs. 
One  of  the  befezzed  ones  seems  to  be  a  merchant 
in  silks.  One  of  his  bales  needed  repacking.  While 
he  and  a  servant  were  busy  with  that  I  took  stock 
of  his  wares.  Seeing  me  interested,  the  Arab — 
such  he  seems  to  be — motioned  to  me  to  step  closer 
and  inspect  his  stock. 

I  could  do  a  little  business  with  those  silks  on 
Fifth  Avenue.  Simply  gorgeous  are  those  fabrics! 
The  man  explained  to  me,  in  the  poorest  of  French, 
that  his  silks  are  dyed  with  vegetable  colors.  They 
look  it!  He  had  a  piece  of  yellow  silk  of  so  fine 
a  texture  and  hue  that  one  would  take  it  for  a  sheet 
of  beaten  gold.  The  Arab  was  proud  of  this.  As 
he  looked  at  the  silk  he  smacked  his  lips.  Whether 
it  was  the  beauty  of  the  fabric  or  the  prospective 
profit  that  caused  his  satisfaction  I  do  not  know. 
At  any  rate,  he  will  sell  the  silks  at  Damascus. 

I  made  some  inquiry  concerning  the  pass  road 
across  the  Giaur  Dagh.  An  Ottoman  officer,  whom 
I  approached  on  the  subject,  was  of  the  opinion 
that  it  was  a  most  difficult  one.  He  suggested  that 
I  would  do  best  not  to  ride  in  the  yailah  going  down 
toward  Islahiah.  Something  might  happen  to  the 
brake  and  then  I  might  fall  several  hundred  feet 
without  striking  once,  and  then  for  the  last  time. 

213 


VII 

IX    THE    LAND    OF    RUINS    AND    ROMANCE 

SOUTH  of  tlio  Aiiiamis  mountain  chain  lies  a 
\'ory  interesting  part  of  Asia  Minor.  It  is 
a  i)art  of  the  earth  for  the  possession  of  which 
many  nations  and  kings  have  fouglit.  The  battle- 
fields of  old  and  our  own  era  crowd  one  another. 
Whoever  held  the  Pylce  SyrioB  was  master,  for  a 
time,  of  Syria  and  the  adjacent  countries.  But 
nobody  ever  held  that  gate  for  long. 

Of  course  there  was  something  to  fight  for.  Once 
upon  a  time,  before  the  great  forests  of  the  district 
disap})eared,  the  site  was  well  watered.  The  soil 
is  rich,  and  the  climate  one  of  the  best  for  the 
husbandman.  Tlu'ough  the  Syrian  Gates  also 
moved  much  of  the  world's  trade  anciently,  and 
to  the  ports  of  the  Levantine  Sea  came  the  best 
merchandise  carried  on  the  Mediterranean. 

Large  cities  came  into  existence.  They  are  no 
more.  Even  the  sites  of  most  of  them  are  not 
known;  Tigranocerta,  capital  of  the  Amienian 
king  of  kings,  Tigranes,  is  such  a  case.  Quite  recently 
accident  led  to  the  discovery  near  Sendchirli  of  the 
site  of  what  is  said  to  be  the  capital  of  the  Hittites. 
It  is  not  so  very  long  ago  that  Baalbec  was  exca- 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

vated.  The  most  interesting  part  of  Damascus 
should  lie  some  fifty  feet  under  its  present  surface. 
In  Deerat  we  have  one  of  the  many  towns  in  the 
Syrian  desert  that  are  being  overwhelmed  by  their 
own  cemetery.  The  burial-grounds  are  ten  times 
greater  in  extent  than  the  area  covered  by  the 
hovels  of  the  living. 

To  Deerat  and  other  places  of  that  sort  the  war 
could  make  no  great  difference.  So  far  as  I  could 
ascertain,  the  war  mattered  nothing  at  all  to  the 
people  of  Deerat.  What  difference  could  it  make 
to  an  Arab  in  a  desert  settlement  who  ruled  in 
Constantinople  or  who  collected  taxes  of  him? 

So,  while  there  was  fighting  at  the  Dardanelles 
and  on  Gallipoli,  while  it  was  once  more  "open 
season"  for  the  Armenians,  the  actual  background 
of  the  Ottoman  Empire  knew  hardly  that  there  was 
war.  For  the  desert  men  will  not  fight  and  in  a  desert 
the  others  cannot  fight.  And  the  background  of 
Turkey  is  desert — desert  in  more  respects  than  one. 

But  Syria  is  pre-eminently  a  land  of  romance. 
For  centuries  it  was  the  scene  of  martial  clash,  the 
incubator  of  lust  for  empire,  and  now  and  then  the 
monument  of  human  achievement.  If  the  Syrian 
cities  could  rise  from  their  ashes  we  would  have 
a  real  fairy-land.  One  metropolis  would  crowd 
the  other  in  a  setting  of  fertile  fields,  splendid  vine- 
yards and  orchards,  mighty  forests,  and  snow- 
capped mountain  ranges. 

But  the  soldier  and  time  have  destroyed  the 

magnificent  capitals,  and  the  man  with  the  axe  and 

the  fat-tailed  sheep  and  the  goats  have  ruined  the 

countryside. 

215 


FROM   1M:R1JN  to  BAGDAD 

The  Turk  could  liavo  provontod  the  latter.  He 
would  have  done  it  had  he  ever  taken  an  intelligent 
interest  in  the  domain  that  fell  so  easily  into  his 
liands. 

Willi  that  I  am  not  coneerned  here,  however. 
This  is  a  simple  account  of  Turkey  in  war. 

Isi^viiiAii,  Syria,  May  3d. 

A  yailah  is  about  the  most  uncomfortable  thing 
one  can  travel  in.  It  resembles  a  barrel  on  wheels. 
Usually  it  is  drawn  by  two  horses  or  mules. 

The  yailah  is  built  to  suit  tlie  habits  of  the  Orient, 
where  peoi>le  still  prefer  to  squat  on  their  haunches 
instead  of  sitting  on  a  chair.  It  is  this  fact  that 
makes  the  conveyance  a  thing  of  torture  to  the 
Occidental.  The  floor  of  the  carriage  is  flat.  There 
is  no  seat.  You  can  sit  baby  fashion,  or  alia 
Turca.  You  can  lie  down  full  length,  even — to 
discover  how  bad  the  roads  are.  Each  jolt  upsets 
your  internal  arrangement.  You  are  constantly  in 
pain.  So  what  you  do  is  to  sit  again  baby  fashion, 
or  alia  Turca,  hoping  that  the  trip  will  be  over  soon. 

In  a  yailah  my  trip  from  Osmanieh  was  continued, 
across  the  Amanus  range  and  into  the  plains  south 
of  it. 

As  far  as  Mamoreh  we  had  a  fairly  good  road. 
Then  the  ascent  of  the  Giaur  Dagh  began  over  in- 
terminable serpentines,  through  deep  gorges,  and 
along  ]>recipices  affording  a  would-be  suicide  a 
clear  drop  of  many  hundred  feet. 

Everywhere  the  Turks  are  building  new  roads 
or  imj)roving  the  old  ones.  I  was  struck  by  their 
endeavors   in  that   line,   though   rather  disgusted 

21G 


IN   THE  LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

at  the  same  time,  because  my  yailah  had  to  go  over 
many  miles  of  roads  freshly  covered  with  crushed 
rock.  It  was  the  worst  form  of  traveling,  and  prog- 
ress was  not  rapid.  The  road  improvement  is  in 
charge  of  Swiss,  German,  Austro-Hungarian,  and 
Ottoman  engineers.  Most  of  the  work  is  done  by 
the  hand  labor  of  Armenians.  I  passed  two  rock- 
crushing  plants  and  about  a  dozen  steam-rollers, 
whose  coughing  must  have  sounded  odd  to  the  old 
mountains. 

New  grades  were  being  laid  to  replace  the  old. 
While  the  road  has  occupied  its  present  site  for 
centuries,  it  had  not  been  used  to  any  extent  for 
wheel  traffic.  The  camel  caravans  prefer  short 
cuts.  But  the  war  has  changed  that.  For  artillery- 
parks  and  supply-trains  easy  grades  are  needed. 
The  Turks  are  now  about  to  provide  them. 

The  Amanus  range,  while  not  as  high  as  the 
Taurus,  is  nevertheless  a  magnificent  mountain 
chain.  Little  denudation  has  been  going  on  here, 
so  that  even  the  highest  peaks  are  covered  with 
vegetation.  Splendid  forests  of  deciduous  trees 
and  conifers  abound.  Here  and  there  one  sees 
groups  of  venerable  cedars — brothers  of  the  trees 
that  have  made  the  Lebanon  famous. 

There  is  much  pasture  in  the  range  and  horned 
cattle  is  plentiful.  The  soil  of  the  valleys  is  rich 
and  well  watered.  Elevation  and  soil  and  climatic 
conditions  produce  a  great  variety  of  crops,  among 
them  the  following  staples:  Indian  corn,  wheat, 
barley,  oats,  rice,  tobacco,  sugar-cane,  cotton, 
opium,  and  mulberry  for  silk  culture. 

With  the  completion  of  the  Bagdad  Railroad 

217 


FROM    HHRLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

the  district  is  hound  to  hccome  one  of  tlie  most 
j)ros]>erous  in  the  Orient.  Together  with  the 
Ciheian  IMain  and  the  Ak^ppo  country  it  will  be- 
come a  V('rital>le  granary. 

Of  course,  it  rainetl  some  more  in  the  morning. 
The  air  was  sultry,  so  that,  when  we  had  to  get 
out  and  walk  in  order  to  spare  the  animals,  we 
perspired  freely.  After  many  uncomj^limentary  re- 
marks concerning  Turkish  roads  and  Turkish  things 
in  general,  the  yailah  included,  we  got  to  the  head 
of  the  })ass,  thinking  that  from  now  on  it  would  be 
easy  sailing.    All  of  which  was  a  mistake. 

The  road  from  the  head  of  the  pass  to  Sendchirli, 
where  the  long  tunnel  of  this  part  of  the  Bagdad 
line  has  one  of  its  openings,  is  about  the  most  dan- 
gerous bit  of  mountain  road  I  have  negotiated  in  a 
four-wheeler.  The  high  ridge  over  which  the  road 
runs  drops  into  the  valley  of  Islahiah  here  without 
any  sort  of  warning,  as  it  were.  There  is  a  spot 
where  an  overturned  carriage  would  roll  and  fall 
some  4,500  feet — from  the  crest  of  a  high  escarp- 
ment to  the  level  of  the  INIediterranean.  When  I 
looked  into  this  frightful  chasm  and  thought  of 
the  poor  brake  the  yailah  had,  and  of  the  advice 
given  me  by  the  Tin-kish  officer,  I  decided  to  walk. 
]\ly  two  companions  had  seen  worse  in  Persia,  they 
said. 

In  Persia? 

But  I  noticed  that  they,  too,  left  their  yailah, 
when  on  a  steep  grade  the  harness  was  almost 
stripped  off  the  horses,  because  the  brake  refused 
to  hold.  That  not  every  one  of  these  arabadchis 
has  been  hurled  into  eternity  off  this  road  shows 

218 


IN   THE   LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

how  kind  Providence  can  be  to  imbeciles  and 
fools. 

So  I  drudged  valleyward  in  the  hot  noon  sun. 
But  the  discomfort  of  this  exercise  was  forgotten 
in  contemplating  the  spectacle  offered  by  wagon 
wrecks  and  animal  skeletons  hanging  in  the  tree- 
tops  below  the  "trail"  road. 

At  Sendchirli  we  reached  the  foot  of  the  Giaur 
Dagh,  glad  that  ascent  and  descent  of  it  were  behind 
us.  I  had  a  peep  at  the  entrance  to  the  big  tunnel 
of  the  Bagdad  Railroad,  which  is  5,100  yards  long, 
then  got  into  the  yailah,  to  go  at  a  fair  cHp  through 
a  very  pretty  woodland  country  in  the  foothills. 

Beyond  that  lay  fields  upon  which  the  crops 
were  ripening.  The  valley  of  Islahiah,  in  reality 
part  of  the  Armenian  plain,  has  a  rich  soil  and  a 
warm  climate,  as  I  deduced  from  the  dust. 

At  sunset  we  bumped  into  Islahiah  and  put  up 
at  another  han.  Had  a  supper  of  yaourt,  cucum- 
bers, and  bread,  and  then,  dead  tired,  turned  in, 
defying  fleas,  bugs,  and  every  disease  known  to 
humanity. 

RoDJo,  Syria,  May  4th. 

Climbed  across  another  range  of  steep  hills,  the 
Kurd  Dagh,  this  morning,  and  then  followed  the 
Ramus  Tchai  almost  to  the  Mediterranean.  At 
first  the  road  was  fairly  good,  but  about  ten  o'clock 
we  had  to  get  on  the  right-of-way  of  the  Bagdad 
Railroad.  Noticed  that  everything  was  ready  for 
the  line — roadbed  and  stations,  but  there  were 
neither  ties  nor  rails  in  evidence.  These  were  to 
come  from  Germany  to  Alexandrette,  the  nearest 

219 


FROM    BERLIN    TO  BAGDAD 

port.  By  sliij),  Bui  I  lie  Allies'  fleet  luis  sj)()ile<l  that 
])art  of  the  ])n)^rain. 

Saw  a  very  odd  and  interesting  natural  phenom- 
enon this  nioruiuf;:.  From  a  lone  hill  in  the  valley 
spurted  the  finest  of  sjH'ing  water  in  all  directions. 
I  counted  sixtt^en  Brooks  having  their  sources  in 
the  hill.  Evidently  a  geological  fault.  Most  of  the 
water  in  the  llanuis  Tchai  comes  from  this  valley. 

ABout  noon  we  reached  the  foothills  of  tlie  Kurd 
Dagh.  Another  laBorious  ascent  had  to  Be  made 
over  innumeraBle  serjjentines.  From  the  valley 
near  KaraBaBa  we  could  see  that  the  pass  road  was 
very  animated.  My  glasses  showed  that  a  great 
deal  of  artillery,  also  some  infantry,  was  coming 
toward  us. 

^Vhile  the  long  column  passed  us  our  yailahs 
had  to  stop.  The  dust  almost  suffocated  us.  The 
troops  were  part  of  the  force  which  the  Turks  have 
kept  near  the  Suez  Canal.  They  were  Being  raced 
Back,  Because,  as  we  dimly  learned,  something  has 
happened  on  the  Gallipoli  peninsula — the  Allies 
have  landed  tliere.  I  prayed  that  my  "Base"  man 
would  have  enough  initiative  to  take  care  of  the 
situation. 

My  two  companions  are  not  quite  so  mysterious 
now.  Little  By  little  I  have  gathered  enough  data 
ahout  them  to  know  what  errand  they  are  on. 
They  are  going  to  Persia  on  a  mission  of  some  sort. 
The  freight  of  the  sheet-iron  chests  is  gold — minted 
gold.  One  of  the  two — I  can't  give  their  names- 
has  Been  a  physician  in  Shiraz,  and  the  other  has 
in  the  past  Been  connected  with  the  German  lega- 
tion in  Teheran. 

220 


"H-n 


-H         O 


IN   THE   LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

It  would  pay  some  desperate  arohadchi  to  drive 
their  yailah  over  a  precipice,  he  jumping  at  the 
right  moment  of  course.  They  insist  that  their 
"  baggage  "-wagon  always  travel  in  front  of  them, 
and  that  it  never  get  too  far  ahead.  What  has  sur- 
prised me  is  that  they  do  not  unload  the  gold  at  the 
hans  and  have  it  brought  to  their  room.  They  are 
not  so  foolish,  however,  as  to  direct  attention  to  the 
"medicine "-boxes  in  that  manner.  They  stand 
guard  over  the  treasure  at  night,  watching  the 
wagon  from  the  window,  when  they  cannot  find 
a  good  excuse  to  sleep  on  it. 

Well,  it's  none  of  my  business,  anyway. 

Here  at  Rodjo  ends  the  French-Syrian  railroad. 
The  French  never  were  great  railroaders  and  this 
line  shows  it.  The  station  here  is  a  puny  affair. 
There  will  be  a  train  some  time  in  the  afternoon, 
says  the  Armenian  station  agent.  The  Turkish 
officer  in  command  of  the  etape  is  quite  the  funniest 
thing  I  have  seen  in  a  long  time.  His  grade  is  that 
of  major.  But  that  does  not  keep  him  from  run- 
ning around  with  his  tunic  open,  showing  a  dirty 
undershirt.  At  the  end  of  a  short  pair  of  legs, 
incased  in  riding-breeches,  swing  a  pair  of  red 
carpet  slippers.  His  calpac  sits  in  the  nape  of  the 
neck. 

Aleppo,  Syria,  May  5th. 

Nobody  here  knows  when  the  next  train  leaves 
for  Damascus.  I  wouldn't  mind  that  so  much  if 
I  hadn't  just  learned  that  two  German  journalists 
passed  through  here  two  weeks  ago,  bound  for 
Arabia  to  pick  up  Lieutenant  von  Muecke  and  his 

221 


FROM  bi:kli\  to  iu(;i)A1) 

Kmdvn  crew  soinow  Ium'o.  Kvon  tluil  I  wouldn't 
miiHl.  wore  it  iiol  tliai  von  Muockc  is  reported  as 
li;i\  iug  readied  Djedda,  near  the  head  of  tlie  Red 
Sea. 

Well,  one  caii'l  do  more  than  one's  best.  They 
want  too  niueh  for  a  special  train  to  Ryak,  so  I 
will  have  to  wait.  I  do  hope  that  the  news  I  got  at 
I  he  local  "hase  and  line  of  communication,"  that 
no  uews])aper  report  ma}'  be  telegraphed  from 
south  of  Damascus,  is  correct.  That  is  a  point  in 
my  fa\or. 

Aleppo  is  not  a  bad  place.  It  is  fairly  modern, 
except  for  the  old  castle  in  the  center  of  the  city. 
It  has  several  parks,  electric  light,  and  other  mod- 
ern improvements. 

Somewhere  off  the  Lebanon,  May  7th. 

As  luck  would  have  it — and  when  has  luck  ever 
deserted  me.' — I  got  this  train  last  night,  and  now 
I  am  bumping  along  over  the  "Homs  &  Hama 
Extension  R.  R.,"  through  a  country  that  has 
more  history  than  is  good  for  it. 

To  the  right  of  me  lie  the  eastern  reaches  of  the 
Lebanon — worst  scenic  disappointment  I  had  in 
my  life.  The  only  thing  that  looks  at  all  worth 
while  is  the  snow-cap  on  a  central  peak;  the  re- 
mainder of  the  view  is  just  flinty  barrenness — 
rock  walls,  boulder  fields,  stony  expanses  without 
trees,  w^ithout  scrub,  without  grass.  Where  are 
the  charms  of  the  Lebanon.'*     I  see  none  of  them. 

It  is  a  little  better  in  the  valley  I  am  going 
through.  Ahead  of  me  lies  what  seems  to  be  a 
park.       From  over  its  treetops  rises  in  majestic 

222 


IN   THE  LAND  OF  RUINS  AND   ROMANCE 

proportions  a  portico — six  columns  supporting  an 
architrave — Baalbec  the  Splendid. 

The  trains  come  to  a  halt  in  the  station  at  Baal- 
bec. Through  the  fruit-trees  I  see  a  complex  of 
massive  walls,  of  more  columns,  of  towers,  of  ram- 
parts. I  can  make  out  the  outline  of  what  seems 
to  be  a  temple.  But  all  that  when  I  come  back. 
Right  now  I  am  busy  running  down  a  story. 

Damascus,  May  8th. 

At  eight  to-night  my  train  leaves  for  Arabia 
over  the  Hedjas  Railroad.  So  far  all  is  well. 
Lieutenant  von  Muecke  and  his  men  left  El 
Ullah  this  afternoon,  bound  for  the  north.  I  am 
to  meet  them  somewhere  along  the  line  on  the 
special  train  which  Meister  Pasha,  chief  engineer 
of  the  Hedjas  Railroad,  has  ordered  for  himself. 

So  far  my  favored  colleagues  have  not  been  able 
to  file  any  part  of  their  story.  They  may  not 
"scoop"  me,  after  all.  They  won't  if  I  can  still 
prevent  it.  But  the  chances  look  slim.  The  Ger- 
man newspaper-men  have  too  much  of  a  start 
over  me.    Maybe  hard  work  will  do  it. 

The  trip  on  the  narrow-gauge  line  from  Ryak 
to  Damascus  was  most  interesting.  First  we 
crawled  through  a  hilly  country  exceedingly  well 
cultivated,  and  then  we  descended  into  the  canon 
of  the  Barada  River — the  parent  of  Damascus. 

I  am  not  surprised  that  the  engineers  who  planned 
the  line  decided  that  they  would  have  their  hands 
full  with  a  narrow-gauge,  let  alone  a  standard, 
line.  It  seems  to  have  been  a  question  how  to 
get  from   the  heights  of  Mount   Hermon  to  the 

15  223 


FHOM    HKKLIX   TO   B\(.DAD 

lower  (losoii  floor  upon  uliicli  lies  the  city.  And 
then,  1  suj>|>os(',  it  was  also  somewhat  of  a  problem 
how  lo  <;e!  up  a.uaiu. 

As  if  afraid  to  slarl  downhill,  the  line  hesitates 
in  many  zif^zaj^s  near  the  head  of  the  gorge.  It 
bends  this  way,  squiniis  through  a  maze  of  dolomite 
crags,  and  finally  makes  u])  its  mind  that  the 
soulhern  wall  of  the  canon  is  the  most  likely  for 
its  purpose.  The  tumiels  are  not  long,  but  they 
are  many.  ]\[nch  of  the  road  lies  on  high  stone 
revets.  The  curves  allow  one  to  shake  hands  with 
the  engineer.  The  smell  of  hot  brake-shoes  is  con- 
stantly in  one's  nostrils. 

The  rickety  old  cars  squeak  and  tumble  along 
over  a  roadbed  where  every  fishi)late  needs  atten- 
tion. There  is  one  consolation — should  anything 
hai)pen,  the  car  will  not  fall  far.  The  tall  poplars 
which  fill  the  valley,  as  cornstalks  do  a  field,  would 
break  the  descent  without  fail. 

These  jxjplars,  by  the  way,  are  one  of  the  singu- 
lar features  of  the  Barada  Canon.  They  are 
planted  closely  together,  have  no  foliage  except 
for  the  crown,  and,  ha\nng  to  fight  for  every  ray 
of  da^•light,  they  are  unusually  tall  and  slender 
of  trunk,  even  for  trees  of  that  family. 

Under  the  trees  runs  the  Barada  in  the  deepest 
shade.  What  little  light  the  high  cliffs  and  walls 
permit  to  enter  is  absorbed,  as  it  were,  by  the  pop>- 
lars.  The  Barada  races  along  in  semi-darkness. 
Its  bed  is  a  succession  of  falls  and  cataracts  and 
rapids.  There  is  enough  water-power  here  to  supply 
all  of  Syria  and  Palestine  with  electric  current. 
So  far  this  energy  is  utilized  only  in  part. 

224 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

The  cliffs  and  walls  of  the  gorge  show  many 
caves.  All  of  them  were  inhabited  in  prehistoric 
times,  when  man  was  either  too  stupid  or  too  lazy 
to  build  himself  a  house.  In  historic  times  they 
have  often  been  the  place  of  refuge  of  the  inhabi- 
tants of  the  district  when  the  invader  came. 

At  last  we  seem  to  have  struck  bottom  some- 
where, as  the  Ottoman  engineer  officer  in  my  com- 
partment put  it.  He  is  going  to  El  Arisli  to  bring 
the  water-supply  of  the  Suez  Desert  into  good 
shape.     He  is  not  very  optimistic,  however. 

Where  is  Damascus.^  I  ask. 

We  are  now  below  the  garden-levels.  The  water 
of  the  Barada  tumbles  about  us  from  a  thousand 
irrigation  sluices.  It  breaks  from  the  foot  of  gar- 
den walls,  issues  from  culverts  of  the  road,  runs 
along  on  little  stone  ducts,  disappears  in  tunnels, 
and  rises  in  siphons. 

The  officer  explains  that  Damascus  would  not 
exist  were  it  not  for  the  Barada. 

*'I  would  place  a  statue  to  the  river  in  the  city," 
he  says.  "Whatever  Damascus  has  and  is  has  its 
origin  in  this  body  of  water." 

The  train  runs  through  gardens.  Such  gardens! 
In  them  stand  the  stateliest  of  nut-trees  and  chest- 
nuts. Fruit-trees  of  every  variety  crowd  one  an- 
other for  space  and  sunlight — for  the  ground  is 
costly  and  must  be  well  used.  The  corn  is  ten  feet 
high  and  has  from  two  to  four  cobs  on  it.  Vege- 
tables stand  thick.  I  saw  salade  romaine  two  feet 
high.  And  flowers — only  Mexico  City  has  such 
flowers,  on  the  floating  islands  in  the  lake. 

Near  the  station  the  Barada  is  no  longer  the 

225 


FROM   BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

impetuous  youngster  of  the  gorge.  They  liave 
foreed  it  into  ji  broad  and  deep  masonry  channel 
here.  So  it  meanders  along,  un<Ier  bridges  and 
past  public  buildings,  toward  the  Bahrets  Sherkiyeh 
and  Kl  Kibliyeh,  out  of  the  desert,  still  dispens- 
ing largess  en  route  to  the  tillers  of  the  soil  who 
care  to  lift  its  water  upon  their  parched  lands. 

And  still  some  people  wonder  why  river  worship 
was  at  one  time  so  fashionable. 

I  had  to  make  things  move  when  I  heard  that 
the  Emden  party  was  on  its  way  up.  There  was 
no  regular  train,  of  course.  So  I  went  to  the 
management  of  the  Hedjas  Railroad  to  hire  a 
special.  That  was  out  of  the  question.  They 
didn't  have  a  locomotive  to  spare  for  the  work. 
Was  there  no  gasolene  hand-car.''  Never  had  such 
a  thing  on  the  Hedjas !  I  suppose  not.  What  they 
don't  do  here  to-day  they  do  to-morrow,  or  not  at 
all. 

But  luck  is  a  faithful  servant  of  mine.  I  was  in- 
formed that  Meister  Pasha,  chief  engineer  of  the 
road,  was  going  south  to  meet  the  party.  May- 
be he  would  take  me  along.  He  has  promised  to 
do  so. 

Deerat,  in  the  Great  Syrian  Desert,  May  9th. 

The  special  pulled  up  here  early  this  morning  to 
wait  for  the  "Emden  Special"  from  El  Ullah,  which 
was  due  about  11  a.m. 

That  being  the  case,  I  decided  to  have  a  good 
look  at  the  "city"  of  Deerat.  I  saw  the  place 
from  the  station  platform — a  line  of  low  buildings 
on  a  ridge  in  the  desert.     It  did  not  seem  worth 

22G 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

while  until  Meister  Paslia  explained  that  the  high 
walls  to  the  south  were  the  remains  of  a  Roman 
settlement  of  some  note. 

It  was  then  seven  o'clock.  But  the  heat  was 
stifling  even  at  that  hour.  I  was  told  that  the 
smoke  and  steam  of  the  "Emden  Special"  would 
be  seen  across  the  desert  an  hour  before  it  reached 
Deerat,  and  that  I  could  not  miss  it.  With  so 
much  time  on  hand  I  decided  to  look  over  the 
"city."    I  might  never  get  that  chance  again. 

The  first  Deeratians  I  met  were  some  Arab 
maidens  at  the  well.  But  Jacob  was  not  looking 
for  a  Rebecca,  though  several  Rebeccas  were  pres- 
ent. They  were  drawing  water  from  the  well  in  a 
manner  followed  throughout  the  East.  A  jar  is 
fastened  to  a  rope,  lowered  and  manipulated  until 
it  is  full  and  then  pulled  up. 

Though  Mohammedans,  these  Arab  women  here 
do  not  wear  the  veil.  I  suspect  that  they  are  too 
homely  to  make  that  necessary.  And  then  it  is 
frightfully  hot  here.  Most  of  the  women  wore 
but  a  single  garment,  the  goemlek,  from  which  we 
Occidentals  have  made  the  word  "  chemise  "^ — the 
wearing  of  shirts  having  originally  been  a  strictly 
Arab  fashion. 

I  thought  I  would  have  a  drink  of  water.  The 
fluid  the  women  were  pulling  from  the  well  seemed 
palatable  and  cool.    It  was  both. 

There  was  no  diflSculty  in  making  the  Arab  girl 
understand  what  I  wanted.  She  smiled  and  handed 
me  the  jar.  I  noticed  that  an  olive  branch  had 
been  tattooed  into  her  chin.  That  did  not  improve 
her  looks  greatly.    The  design  was  done  in  a  dirty 

227 


FROM   BICRLIN   TO  BAGDAD 

green  tint.     Apart   from  lliis  disfiguration  the  girl 
was  not  hatl-Iooking. 

To  my  (juostion,  did  she  speak  Turkish,  the 
\oung  woman  r('])li('d,  ''Heir,  cffcndim!'"  ("No, 
sir!").  Tliat  mucli  sJio  understood,  anyway.  Then 
she  sahianuKl  deeply  and  gravt^ly,  loaded  tlie  jug 
on  her  shoulder,  and  walked  away. 

I  was  going  in  the  same  direction,  but  did  not 
want  to  press  my  company  upon  her,  so  I  gave  her 
quite  a  start.  But  she  heard  me  coming,  stop})ed, 
and  waited  until  I  had  caught  up.  She  made  a 
remark  and  laughed  roguishly.  I  said  something 
in  Turkish. 

"  Tucrkdclic  as  biliruii,'*  she  said,  with  a  smile. 
*' jiirabdchc  bilirmissinis?'*  ("I  do  not  sjjeak  Turkish. 
Do  you  speak  Arabic?"). 

It  was  my  turn  to  say,  ''Heiry  effe?idim.^* 

We  walked  on.  She  kept  up  her  prattle.  Evi- 
dently she  could  not  fully  comprehend  why  I  did 
not  understand  Arabic.  Looking  full  into  my  eyes, 
she  would  repeat  and  repeat  the  same  words,  and 
shake  her  head  when  I  shrugged  my  shoulders. 

I  thought  the  incident  ended  when  we  reached 
the  first  of  the  adobe  hovels  of  Deerat.  The  girl 
thought  otherwise.  I  had  salaamed  her  in  parting. 
This  she  would  not  accept.  With  a  smile  she  mo- 
tioned that  I  should  follow  her.  I  was  puzzled. 
But  there  was  no  good  reason  why  I  should  not 
accept  her  invitation.    So  I  followed. 

It  seems  that  my  companion  lives  under  the 
ceiling  of  an  ancient  Roman  temple.  I  say  under 
the  ceiling  because  the  interior  of  the  temple  was 
filled  with  debris  to  within  twenty  feet  of  the  ceiling. 

228 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

An  adobe  wall  has  been  placed  between  the  col- 
umns and  capitals  of  the  dilapidated  portico.  There 
is  a  door  opening  with  a  mat  as  portiere,  which 
had  been  drawn  back. 

The  interior  of  this  odd  home  was  well  enough 
arranged.  On  the  ancient  walls  hung  several 
prayer-rugs.  The  floor  was  being  swept  by  an 
elderly  woman  as  the  girl  entered. 

The  young  woman  set  the  jar  on  the  ground  and 
began  to  tell  the  other  something,  jwinting  to  the 
door  where  I  stood.  The  older  woman  seemed 
annoyed  or  frightened.  But  that  did  not  seem  to 
worry  the  girl  in  the  least.  She  poured  some  water 
into  a  smaller  jug  and  handed  it  to  me.  It  struck 
me  that  I  was  very  much  'persona  gratissima. 

While  I  drank  she  prattled  again.  I  caught  the 
word  coffee  after  she  had  repeated  it  a  dozen  times. 
Of  course  I  would  wait  for  coffee.  I  might  never 
again  have  the  chance  of  being  entertained  in  a 
Roman  temple  at  Deerat  in  the  desert. 

I  was  glad,  moreover,  to  get  out  of  the  broiling 
sun;  so  I  sat  down  on  a  mat,  rested  my  back  against 
a  column  carved  by  a  Roman,  and  surveyed  my 
environment  with  much  interest. 

The  girl  had  brought  a  little  mangal  from  a  re- 
cess. Into  this  she  heaped  some  dry  cow  manure, 
struck  sparks  from  a  steel  and  flint,  and  then 
fanned  energetically  with  her  breath  the  spot  where 
the  fire  had  started.    No  doubt  I  was  to  have  coffee. 

I  had  coffee.  I  have  drunk  better,  but  I  have 
never  sipped  any  under  equally  interesting  cir- 
cumstances. 

Put  I  had  a  train  to  look  out  for — a  train  which 

229 


FROM    HERMN    TO   BAGDAD 

T  had  ronu*  many  miles  to  meet.  I  wanted  to 
leave,  but  my  little  hostess  would  have  none  of 
that. 

*'  Vawash,  yairasli,''  she  would  say. 

I  was  in  a  pretty  ])iekle  now,  I  eould  not  make 
her  un<lerstaud,  and  to  my  insistent  re|)etilions  of 
the  words,  Dcmip  join  (railroad)  she  would  merely 
say,  "  }'airasJi,  _?/(/// v/.s7/,"  meaniu,u'  that  there  was 
no  huri-y. 

By  means  of  the  si^n  language  I  finally  got  the 
girl  to  umlerstand  that  I  wanted  to  have  a  look 
at  the  town.     She  seemed  agreeable  to  that. 

So  I  was  to  have  company  for  the  next  hour  or 
so.  The  girl  left  the  temple  with  me,  and,  bright 
thing  that  she  was,  led  me  to  the  remains  of  the 
Roman  settlement  of  which  her  home  seemed  to 
be  a  disjointed  part.  We  walked  through  a  long 
alley  flanked  with  adobe  walls  in  whose  doors 
stood  wondering  inliabitants,  and  then  came  to 
what  had  been  a  Roman  aquarium — one  of  the 
places  in  which  those  people  gave  their  aquatic 
spectacles. 

Deerat  in  those  days  must  have  had  more  water 
than  it  has  to-day.  The  aguarium  could  not  be 
filled  in  a  week  by  all  the  water  now  available.  Near 
the  big  tank  lie  the  remains  of  a  temple  or  villa; 
nothing  of  any  importance,  however.  Without 
knowing  the  history  of  Deerat,  I  should  say  that 
it  was  never  more  thaji  a  garrison  of  the  Romans. 

Later  we  came  to  the  cemetery  of  Deerat.  One 
could  not  miss  it. 

Deerat's  j>rominent  feature  is  its  cemetery. 
Around    the    town    and    stretching    far    into    the 

230 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROISIANCE 

country  lies  this  mesarlyh.  The  town  may  cover 
one-half  of  a  square  mile;  the  cemetery  extends 
over  at  least  five  square  miles. 

And  what  a  cemetery !  Not  a  single  tree  in  it. 
Nothing  but  thousands  of  gravestones,  most  of 
them  down.  Between  the  gravestones  stands  thin 
bunch-grass,  upon  which  a  multitude  of  goats 
was  feeding. 

After  a  long  and  purposeless  stroll  among  the 
gravestones  we  returned  to  town,  where  I  met 
Meister  Pasha  and  some  other  officials  of  the  Hedjas 
line,  who  had  come  to  meet  the  train. 

When  the  girl  saw  them  she  salaamed  and  walked 
off.  She  seemed  to  be  a  little  angry.  I  could  not 
help  wondering  what  was  passing  in  the  mind  of 
this  simple  child  of  nature. 

I  have  come  across  some  old  things  here  and 
there,  but  I  had  never  seen  a  church  turned  upside 
down  until  I  came  to  Deerat. 

The  town  has  two  mosques.  The  larger  of  them, 
whose  minaret  can  be  seen  for  scores  of  miles  in 
the  desert,  was  a  Byzantine  church  at  the  time 
the  Arabs  took  Deerat.  The  Greeks  had  followed 
the  Romans  in  the  possession  of  the  town.  A 
church  was  built  by  them.  It  cannot  have  been 
much  of  a  structure.  When  the  Moslems  came 
they  converted  it  into  a  dchami. 

For  some  reason  it  must  have  become  necessary 
to  rebuild  the  structure.  And  then,  by  some  method 
of  reasoning  all  their  own,  the  architects  decided 
to  set  the  many  columns  of  the  church  on  their 
capitals.  But  that  is  not  the  worst  of  it.  It  was 
found   that   more   columns   were   needed.      There 


FRO:\[    RERLTX   TO   IVVC.DAD 

boinfj:  no  more  carvt'<l  ones  al  liand,  tJio  builders 
ti)ok  hu^o  slalo  spliulors  from  a  nearby  quarry 
and  set  llieni  between  the  columns  to  su}>j>ort 
tile  roof  and  ceiling  of  the  mosque.  The  effect  is 
most  bizarre. 

In  all  that  country  there  is  no  wood — no  trees. 
There  is  enon<,di  adobe  for  walls,  but  the  substance 
does  nol  lend  itself  to  the  construction  of  an  arch 
or  vault.  Still,  the  houses  of  Deerat  had  to  be 
roofed.  In  the  end  this  was  accomplished — as  it 
had  been  done  in  the  desert  ever  since  some  of  its 
iiiliabitants  tired  of  living  in  tents. 

The  material  in  the  slate  quarries  was  used.  The 
huge  blocks  of  stone  are  split  with  wedges  until 
beams  of  the  desired  size  are  secured.  These  beams 
are  then  used  to  support  the  ceiling  and  roof.  On 
them  is  placed  the  material  of  which  the  roof  is 
made. 

Much  ingenuity  is  displayed  in  some  of  these 
"stone "-beam  ceilings.  After  all,  it  is  not  easy 
to  secure  many  good  stone  beams.  One  or  two 
of  them,  as  a  rule,  is  all  the  average  Deeratian  can 
afford.  But  this  quota  would  not  hold  up  his  roof. 
That  is  done,  however,  by  trestling  up  on  the 
main  beam  the  smaller  splinters  in  such  a  manner 
that  a  primitive  arch  results.  Woe  to  the  tenants 
of  the  iiouse  if  ever  one  of  the  splinters  breaks. 

iVIeister  Pasha  has  taken  a  great  interest  in  this 
sort  of  construction.  He  proved  an  efficient  cice- 
rone, therefore.  He  told  me  that  throughout  the 
desert  this  system  is  in  use.  He  has  been  in  places 
where  even  the  little  furniture  needed  by  the 
"urban"  Arab  is  made  of  stone  deals  and  timbers, 


IN   THE  LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

We  took  another  turn  through  a  part  of  the 
cemetery,  walked  again  through  the  ruins  of  the 
Roman  city,  and  then,  having  seen  a  tiny  puff  of 
steam  on  the  hot  horizon,  we  hurried  to  the  station. 

Damascus,  May  9th. 

Everybody  reads  newspapers.  Few  people  ever 
give  the  collection  of  news  a  thought.  There  is 
no  profession  that  lives  more  by  its  wits  than  the 
newspaper-man.  In  fact,  the  man  who  is  not  en- 
dowed with  a  liberal  quota  of  wits — resourcefulness 
— does  not  last  long  in  our  business.  Competition 
is  keen.     Only  the  alert  survive. 

As  I  have  already  stated,  two  German  news- 
paper-men— and  I  may  say  that  they  are  prom- 
inent in  the  Central  States — had  rushed  into 
Arabia  to  get  a  "beat"  on  everybody.  Somebody 
had  tipped  them  off  two  weeks  before  I  learned 
that  the  men  of  the  Emden  were  nearing  the  head 
of  the  Red  Sea.  They  had  gone  to  El  Ullah,  and 
even  if  they  had  not  been  able  to  get  their  stories 
on  the  wire,  they  at  least  had  had  ample  time  to 
write  them.  I  was  in  Deerat,  with  not  a  single 
word  of  the  really  extraordinary  account  in  my 
possession. 

When  the  train  pulled  into  Deerat  I  jumped 
aboard  and  began  to  interview  Lieutenant  von 
Muecke  and  his  officers  and  men.  It  was  hard  work 
getting  the  story  pieced  together  from  the  some- 
what fragmentary  accounts  I  drew  from  the 
weary  men.  But  by  the  time  Damascus  was 
reached  I  had  a  clear  picture  of  what  had  hap- 
pened to  a  part  of  the  Emden's  crew  out  in  the  Ind- 

233 


FROM    nEHMX   TO   BAC.DAD 

i;iii  ()('(>;ni,  and  laliM*  in  llio  iiilcrior  of  Arabia, 
a  country  in  which  hnl  few  Europeans  had  ever 
been. 

My  first  tlespa idles  consisted  together  of  some 
4,400  words.  The  total  of  the  story  ultimately 
ran  into  la, 000  words  or  15  nevvsj)ai)er  colunms. 
Meanwhile  my  German  comi)etitors  were  ready  to 
file  their  stories;  mine  had  still  to  be  written. 

Here  was  a  fine  dilemma!  I  began  to  write  as 
I  had  n(>v(M'  written  before.  Only  speed  could 
save  the  situation  for  me,  and  then,  knowing  how 
things  are  handled  in  Turkey,  I  decided  to  have 
my  story  censored  by  the  vali  himself.  I  would 
also  ask  that  almighty  official  to  issue  orders  to 
the  telegraj)h  service  that  my  despatch  was  to 
have  precedence  over  all  others.  That  was  the 
only  chance  I  had  of  getting  my  account  through 
first. 

It  was  almost  seven  o'clock  when  my  copy  was 
in  shipshape.  I  got  into  an  araba  and  instructed 
the  driver  to  take  me  to  the  valis  palace.  My 
many  chabitk!  chahuk!  (quick!  quick!)  could  not 
induce  the  arahadchi  to  take  a  friendly  interest  in 
my  affairs.  But  a  medjidich  (five  francs)  had  an 
electric  effect  upon  both  the  driver  and  the  horses. 
Of  a  sudden  life  came  into  the  man  and  animals. 
We  speeded  toward  the  palace  at  a  clip  that  caused 
the  street  to  be  cleared  five  hundred  yards  ahead 
of  us. 

Luck  was  not  having  both  eyes  on  me  at  that 
moment.  As  we  came  to  the  gate  of  the  palace 
some  outriders  emerged,  followed  by  the  state 
coach  of  the  vali  and  more  men  on  horseback. 

231 


IN  THE  LAND   OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

My  driver  could  not  understand  what  I  said, 
but  he  was  a  good  guesser.  Thus  it  came  that  back 
of  the  vali's  cavalcade  trundled  my  araba. 

I  wondered  where  the  vali  was  headed  for,  and 
had  visions  of  having  that  manuscript  still  in  my 
l^focket  next  morning — a  most  unpleasant  thought. 

After  much  driving  the  vali's  procession  stopped 
in  front  of  a  cinema,  as  they  call  a  moving-picture 
house  in  Damascus — moving  pictures  in  Damascus ! 
I  remembered  then  that  the  sailors  of  the  Emden 
were  to  be  given  a  moving-picture  entertainment 
that  night.    The  vali  was  to  attend. 

I  hate  being  too  forward.  But  this  was  a  case 
of  professional  life  and  death  with  me.  That  story 
would  have  to  get  on  the  wires  that  night. 

A  sort  of  reception  committee  in  frock-coat  and 
silk  hat  rushed  from  the  door  of  the  movie  to  meet 
His  Excellency.  I  got  out  of  my  araba,  permitted 
the  storm  of  enthusiasm  to  pass,  and  then  joined 
the  tail  end  of  the  valis  entourage. 

A  Turkish  policeman  held  me  up  on  the  stairs. 
He  wanted  to  get  some  vesika  or  other  paper.  I 
showed  him  the  passport  Enver  Pasha  had  given 
me.  The  man  couldn't  read,  anyway,  so  it 
made  no  difference  to  him.  He  remained  ob- 
durate until  I  said  the  magic  word,  "Alevian!" 
("German!") 

That  helped  instantly.  No  doubt  the  faithful 
asker  thought  I  was  an  officer  or  something  of  that 
sort,  an  impression  which  my  attire  might  easily 
create. 

The  house  was  dark  when  I  got  in.  I  could  see 
the  flicker  of  the  moving  picture  on  the  ceiling. 

235 


FROM    HKRMN   TO   BAGDAD 

No  doubt  [\io  rali  was  in  a  hox — in  the  center  box 
of  I  he  iioiise,  if  I  June's  were  run  regularly. 

That  box  1  found.  ]  peeped  into  it.  Tlie  box 
was  dark.  After  a  ^\•hik'  I  discerned  the  outlines 
of  two  men  a^'ainst  l]ie  screen  on  wliidi  sailors 
were  niareliiuiLC  and  count er-niareJiing.  ''J'hen  I 
noticeil  tluit  four  men  were  seated  on  cliairs.  Back 
of  tliem  stood  tliree  policemen.  I  had  found  tlie 
/■<///. 

I  strolled  leisurely  into  tlie  box,  sat  down,  and 
waited.  They  were  showing  some  war  picture — 
and  a  long  one  it  was,  as  it  well  might  seem  to  a 
man  who  had  intruded  thus  into  the  presence  of 
the  great. 

When  the  film  had  been  run  off  the  lights  were 
flashed  on,  and  the  crowd  ai)plauded  energetical lj\ 
The  rail,  being  a  man  willing  to  please,  also  clapped 
his  hands.     I  didn't. 

I  was  busy  wondering  how  an  introduction  might 
be  gracefully  effected,  when  the  rali  looked  around. 
He  saw  me  and  di<ln't  seem  to  understand  the 
situation.  I  could  not  blame  him.  I  introduced 
myself.  The  valis  eyes  grew  bigger.  So  did  those 
of  the  two  men  with  him. 

"I  am  here  on  very  important  business,  Your 
Excellency,"  I  said,  in  French.  "I  wish  to  have 
a  newspaper  despatch  censored  by  you — the  story 
of  the  Emdcn  party." 

One  of  the  men  with  the  vali  grew  indignant.  I 
ignored  him. 

"But  that  is  out  of  the  question,"  said  the  vali, 
coldly.  "In  the  first  place,  I  am  not  the  proper 
official   for  that — that  lies  within  the  domain  of 

!236 


'K^-^-'J-r^  --— ^-  u,^''^^.,. 


«\ 


■»1 


HEDTJCED   FACSIMILE   OP  MILITARY   PASS   GIVEN   THE   AUTHOR 
BY   ENVER  PASHA 


It  entitles  the  holder  to  call  for  assistance  upon  all  Ottoman  civil  and  military 
authorities  as  far  as  Maan,  the  southernmost  station  on  the  Hedjas  R.  R.,  to 
which  Unbelievers  may  travel.  The  heavy  "pot-hooks"  on  the  lower  left  con- 
stitute Enver  Pasha'a  signature.  An  Ottoman  official  seeing  that  signature 
could  generally  not  do  enough  in  his  eflForts  to  please. 


FROM    BERLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

llu>  inililary  aiilliorilios.  Au<l,  socoikHv,  I  am  here 
at  ail  nilortaiimu'iiL  and  can't  bo  boUicrccl  with 
Mich  inattors.  How,  by  the  way,  did  you  get  into 
my  box?" 

1  rei)Hod  to  I  hat  question  in  my  iK>Htest  French. 

When  I  was  tln-ough  explaining,  the  vali  had 
not  yet  made  up  his  mind  as  to  what  he  shoukl  do. 
Tlie  tlu-ee  pohcemen  were  ready  to  carry  out  any 
orck'rs,  and  since  the  vali  has  ratlier  far-reaching 
]>ower  over  life  and  deatli,  I  speculated  what  those 
orders  might  have  been  a  few  years  ago.  That 
night  they  could  be  nothing  worse  than  that  I 
should  ))e  thrown  out  of  tlie  box  without  ceremony. 
But  that  was  exactly  what  I  did  not  want  to  happen. 

But  the  vali,  like  so  many  Turks  in  high  position, 
turned  out  to  be  a  very  reasonable  human  being. 
AVlien  I  told  him  again  that  the  story  had  to  get 
off  that  night,  and  that  there  was  nobody  but  he 
who  could  prevent  my  trying  trip  from  being  an 
utter  fiasco,  his  heart  softened. 

"Have  you  got  the  story  with  you?"  he  asked. 

Did  I  have  that  story  with  me! 

"But  it  is  in  English,"  I  said,  regretting  that  I 
had  not  written  the  story  in  French,  as  I  had  at 
one  time  planned. 

Dame  Fortune  had  both  eyes  on  me  in  that  mo- 
ment. 

"jNIy  dear  sir,"  said  the  vali,  in  fluent  English, 
"I  speak  English  almost  as  well  as  you  do.  Speak 
it  better  than  French,  and  certainly  write  it  better." 

I  could  have  kissed  that  vali. 

He  read  the  first  three  pages  of  the  despatch. 
There  were  fourteen  pages,  however. 

i'3H 


IN   THE  LAND   OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

"It  is  very  long,"  said  the  vali.  "Tell  me  briefly 
what  the  despatch  contains." 

They  switched  on  another  film  just  then.  While 
it  was  filling  the  dark,  hot  hall  wdth  its  trembling 
lights  I  told  the  vali  what  my  story  contained. 

"That's  all  right,"  he  said.  "I  will  assume  the 
responsibility  for  it — seeing  that  this  is  a  special 
occasion.    When  the  light  returns  I  will  sign  it." 

But  that  film  drama  was  long!  I  was  glad  when 
the  lady  committed  suicide  by  plunging  into  her 
heart  a  dagger  concealed  in  a  bouquet  of  roses — 
paper  roses,  no  doubt. 

The  light  was  flashed  on.  The  vali  signed  with 
a  red  pencil. 

"Now,  Your  Excellency,  there  is  another  mat- 
ter," I  began  as  he  returned  the  copy.  "The 
telegraph  wires  are  usually  overloaded,  witli  the 
result  that  long  despatches  are  put  off  until  the 
rush  has  eased  up.  I  cannot  afford  to  have  that 
happen  to  me  in  this  case.  Will  you  kindly  in- 
struct the  telegraph  office,  by  some  words  to  that 
effect  on  the  back  of  the  copy,  that  this  message 
must  have  the  right  of  way  over  all  others.''" 

The  vali  could  see  the  point  and  forthwith  ex- 
ercised this  kingly  prerogative  of  his.  Then  we 
parted  with  several  salaams,  the  movie  show  pro- 
ceeded, and  I  raced  to  the  telegraph  office. 

The  first  thing  I  showed  the  man  at  the  guichet 
was  the  notice  of  the  vali.  Its  effect  was  astonish- 
ing. The  superintendent  happened  to  be  near. 
The  receiving  clerk  called  him. 

"Certainly,  certainly,  monsieur!  Your  despatch 
will  get   on  the  wire  this  instant.      As  the  clerk 

16  239 


F1U)M    lUlRLlN     PO   BAGDAD 

counts  \\\c  words  on  a  page  lie  will  liaiul  it  lo  the 
oporalor.  ' 

Tlie  clerk  counted  and  counted.  I  paid  my  bill, 
and  then  aske<l  the  clerk  what  the  vali  had  said 
in  his  instructions. 

"He  says  tliat  this  oflficc  must  see  to  it  that  tlie 
message  nnist  have  tlie  right  of  way  over  all  others," 
read  the  clerk. 

There  is  a  great  deal  in  mental  suggestion.  I 
had  started  by  asking  the  Vdli  that  my  despatch 
should  be  sent  in  its  turn.  1  had  finished  by  ask- 
ing that  it  have  precedence  over  all  others.  The 
vali  ha<l  written  that  order. 

With  that  great  load  oft'  my  mind,  I  spilled  a 
little  largess.  One  Turkish  pound  to  the  receiving 
clerk,  and  two  for  the  two  operators  who  were 
handling  my  story  out  of  Damascus  on  two  wires. 

May  10th. 

I  have  scooped  my  competitors  so  far  as  Con- 
stantinople. Don't  know  what  the  fate  of  the 
story  beyond  that  point  will  be.  I  am  not  going 
to  worry  about  that. 

Reception  last  night  at  the  konak.  My  friend,  the 
vali,  j)resided.  Everybody  worth  while  in  Damascus 
was  there  to  do  honor  to  the  Emden  crew. 

There  was  enough  honor  in  the  speeches  for 
everybody.  Tons  of  flowers  of  the  most  fragrant 
sort  filled  the  large  hall.  The  table  groaned  under 
the  load  of  good  things  to  eat.  Champagne  was 
served  by  the  case — for,  mark  you,  while  the  Mos- 
lem is  not  allowed  to  drink  wine,  he  is  allowed  to 
drink  champagne,  for  the  all-suflScient  reason  that 

240 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

the  QuaWaan  does  not  expressly  forbid  it.  The  great 
prophet  had  no  means  of  knowing  that  ultimately 
there  would  be  such  a  thing  as  champagne,  so  he 
did  not  include  it  in  the  list  of  beverages  proscribed. 
The  Moslem  knows  that,  and  naturally  assumes 
that  Mohammed  has  no  objection  to  a  glass  of  fizz. 
I  am  sure  he  hasn't. 

The  affair  was  really  high  class.  There  had  been 
a  movement  on  foot  to  have  the  non-commissioned 
men  and  privates  of  the  Emden  crew  eat  in  another 
hall.  But  the  vali  squashed  that  promptly.  He 
was  a  democrat,  he  said,  and  men  who  had  shown 
such  qualities  were  fit  to  eat  with  the  Sultan.  He 
had  his  way — and  my  company  at  table.  I  sat 
across  from  him.  He  was  still  amused  over  my 
resourcefulness. 

There  are  many  people  from  his  vilayet  in  the 
United  States,  he  explained,  which  he  also  gave 
as  the  reason  for  his  being  so  well  informed  on 
American  affairs.  He  maintained  that  the  United 
States  was  no  greater  a  democracy  than  the  Otto- 
man Empire. 

"We  Ottomans  are  all  equal.  We  have  a  Min- 
ister of  the  Interior  who  started  in  life  as  a  telegraph 
operator.  That  ought  to  appeal  to  you  especially," 
he  said.  There  was  a  funny  look  in  his  eyes.  I 
am  willing  to  bet  good  money  that,  on  second 
thought,  he  had  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that  I 
had  taken  advantage  of  him. 

The  speeches  were  short,  and  the  dinner  soon 
over,  therefore.  The  vali,  showing  again  what  a 
sensible  individual  he  is,  made  the  following  remark 
in  his  address  to  the  Emden  crew: 

241 


FROM   BKRIJX  TO   BAGDAD 

"And  I  will  iK)l  sny  any  more.  I  want  you  to 
have  a  good  look  at  Damascus  before  ;\'ou  leave 
liere.  It  is  a  city  worth  seeing.  This  hall,  more- 
over, is  hot.  I  did  not  prepare  a  speech,  and  I  am 
sure  the  other  gentlemen  whom  we  shall  have  the 
honor  of  hearing  to-night  will  not  detain  you  long." 

The  hint  was  accepted.  Those  wlio  liad  come 
to  the  banquet  to  air  their  oratoria!  talents  decided 
to  do  that  some  other  time — for  which  I  was  duly 
tliaukful,     I  had  had  a  very  busy  day. 

In  the  morning  I  had  visited  the  bazaar  and  had 
imbibed  much  Oriental  atmosphere;  most  of  it  is 
rugs.  I  was  shown  enough  Bokharas,  Persians, 
Syrians,  and  what  not  to  supply  a  city  of  a  mill- 
ion inliabitants.  There  were  many  dissertations 
on  the  fine  qualities  of  vegetable  dyes  and  their 
advantages  over  chemical  dyes  of  the  aniline  va- 
riety. One  of  the  things  that  interested  me  most 
was  the  heaps  of  arms  from  all  Eastern  lands,  some 
of  them  dating  from  the  days  of  the  Crusaders. 

A  restful  place  is  that  bazaar.  To  believe  what 
some  Oriental  travelers  palm  off,  one  would  think 
that  a  bazaar  is  bedlam.  Well,  that  of  Damascus 
is  not.  The  merchants  sit  on  their  piles  of  rugs 
and  keep  the  narghileh  bubbling  and  gurgling,  sip- 
ping meanwhile  fine  coffee  with  a  nonchalance  that 
made  me  think  twice  before  asking  them  to  show 
me  a  thing.  The  venders  of  arms  are  no  less 
aristocratic,  and  when  it  comes  to  the  jewelry- 
and  antique-dealers — Persians  in  black  kaftan  and 
black  fez — ^why,  I  would  not  think  of  addressing 
one  of  Their  Highnesses  without  salaaming  my 
deepest. 

242 


IN  THE  LAND   OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

Through  the  glass  roof  of  the  bazaar  comes  bright 
sunlight.  Here  and  there  the  multicolored  carpet 
awnings  have  been  spread,  so  that  the  long,  broad 
corridor,  formed  by  the  bazaar  stalls,  shows  all 
the  colors  light  and  shadow  can  produce  on  the 
gorgeously  tinted  rugs  and  silks  exposed  for  sale. 
Parts  of  the  bazaar  lie  in  dark  arcades  of  masonry. 
The  sunlight  hits  their  interiors  on  the  slant,  show- 
ing in  broad,  yellow  ribbons  of  light  that  would  be 
the  delight  of  any  painter. 

Camel-trains  arrive  and  depart.  The  animals 
enjoy  the  coolness  of  the  bazaar  and  kneel  down  with 
many  a  grunt  of  satisfaction  that  the  end  of  the 
journey  across  the  hot  desert  has  been  reached.  The 
merchant  counts  his  bales  or  boxes  and  makes  out 
a  receipt  with  a  paint-brush  which  he  dips  into 
an  inkstand  the  size  of  a  young  barrel.  The 
dewedchi  (camel-driver)  gets  a  bakhshish  (tip)  and 
all  goes  well.  Odd  to  say,  the  word  camel  is  not 
heard  in  the  Orient,  dewe  being  used. 

There  are  many  women  in  the  bazaar — ^Arabs 
mostly.  Contrary  to  their  sisters  in  the  rural 
districts,  they  go  veiled,  the  fashions  in  yashmak, 
burundchiik,  and  feredcheh  being  the  same  as  in 
Constantinople. 

Most  of  the  women  are  slim,  like  the  men.  The 
Arab  is  not  given  to  obesity;  nor  is  the  Turk,  for 
that  matter.  Our  notions  in  that  respect  seem  to 
come  mostly  from  people  who  know  only  the  habi- 
tues of  the  Pera  restaurants. 

The  dress  of  the  men  here  is  interesting.  Many 
of  them  are  clothed  a  la  mode — store  clothes.  Then 
come  the  various  garbs  of  the  Turk — baggy  trous- 

243 


FROM    HKRLIN   TO  BAGDAD 

ers.  ami  others  not  so  baggy,  l)iiL  all  set  off  by  a 
flaring  sash  \hA\.  Some  wear  colton  pantaloons  of 
white,  with  even  a  broader  and  louder  kushak. 
Outing  shirts  and  short  jackets,  both  of  them  usu- 
ally embroidered,  comj)lete  the  costume.  There  is 
the  omnii)resent  red  fez,  and  footwear  of  all 
descriptions. 

But  the  Arabs  from  the  desert  who  come  in  here 
to  sell  rugs  an<l  wool  are  the  most  picturesque  in 
the  crowd.  INIost  of  them  can  be  singled  out  by 
the  white  turban  which  encircles  the  Ottoman  fez 
of  red.  The  turl)an  hangs  over  the  neck  and  covers 
much  of  the  face.  The  body  is  draped  in  a  brown 
burnoose  of  generous  folds.    The  feet  are  in  sandals. 

Those  faces  are  interesting.  Brown  from  ex- 
ix)surc  and  natural  tint,  clean-cut  like  a  cameo, 
lean,  and  withal  in  repose,  they  convey  an  impres- 
sion that  is  not  easily  shaken  off.  There  is  much 
dignity  in  the  face  of  even  the  humblest  son  of 
the  desert — a  dignity  stamped  there,  I  take  it, 
by  the  subconscious  realization  of  the  mind  that 
it  has  passed  the  ordeal  of  elimination  and  proved 
its  claim  to  fitness.  Those  who  survive  on  the 
desert  are  one  hundred  per  cent.  fit.  Life  there 
shows  no  favors — the  weakling  perishes  without 
exception.  Hence  these  strong  and  handsome 
faces;  hence  also  the  lithe  body,  revealing  strength 
and  gi-ace  in  every  movement. 

There  are  also  brutalized  Kurd  hamals,  and  cowed 
Armenians — jwor  devils! — for  whom  it  is  once 
more  "open  season."  Proud  Persians  strut  about. 
Syrians  waddle  up  and  down  as  if  they  had  learned 
to  walk  on  a  Paris  boulevard. 

244 


IN  THE  LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

It  is  an  ever-changing  picture — and  one  that  is 
not  fully  appreciated  except  you  happen  to  be  in 
the  right  mood. 

A  few  steps  from  the  bazaar  and  all  is  difiFerent. 
A  clanging  street-car  shoots  past;  you  see  that  in 
the  streets  electric  arc-lamps  swing  from  pretentious 
cast-iron  posts.  The  shops  show  "marked-down" 
tickets.  You  cannot  read  them,  but  you  know 
what  is  meant  by  drawing  a  heavy  black  line 
through  a  higher  amount  in  piasters  and  paras,  and 
putting  a  lower  one  under  it  in  red  ink. 

They  don't  do  that  in  the  bazaar.  The  Turk 
and  Arab  have  one  price.  You  pay  that  or  no 
transaction  takes  place.  The  Greek  may  ask  twice 
as  much  as  he  will  take  in  the  end,  and  the  Ar- 
menian will  even  go  to  three  times  the  sale  price; 
but  at  any  rate  they  do  not  expect  you  to  believe 
that  they  could  not  write  anything  they  pleased 
on  a  piece  of  cardboard,  delete  it,  and  then  write 
something  else  under  it  in  red  ink. 

Damascus  is  a  strange  mixture  of  the  old  and  the 
new.  It  is  a  sort  of  little  whirlpool  in  this  part  of 
the  world  where  the  Orient  and  Occident  swing 
around  in  eddies,  with  the  Orient  still  getting  the 
better  of  it.  The  tallow  candle  has  made  much 
room  for  the  incandescent  lamp  that  gets  its 
"juice"  from  the  Barada  River.  The  street-car, 
getting  its  current  from  the  same  source,  has  driven 
the  araba  into  the  background.  And  yet  Damascus 
remains  a  delightfully  Oriental  city.  Its  archi- 
tecture is  still  what  it  was  in  the  palmiest  days  of 
Ottoman  power,  and  its  gardens  are  still  the  abode 
of  the  biilbiil  and  the  rose. 

245 


FROM   ni:RTJN  TO  BAGDAD 

Baalrec.  Syria,  Mai/  loth. 

Raallx'c  the  Ma^iiificoiit  lies  IiovoikI  my  windows. 
St  ill  fart  luT  on  is  the  hai'c,  <l('nii<k'(l  I/rl)uiion.  I  won- 
der wlietluT  tJiose  gentle  slopes  were  as  barren  in 
the  days  of  C;esar  Augustus,  who  caused  Baalbec 
to  he — shall  I  say  l)ui]t  or  created? 

I  have  sat  under  the  portico  of  the  Temple  of 
the  Sun  and  marveled  at  the  pro]X)rtion  of  column 
and  areliitra\e.  AVhat  master's  mind  conceived 
those  relations  of  beauty  to  strength?  I  have 
wandered  under  the  colonnade  of  the  Temple  to 
Bacchus  and  tried  in  vain  to  })icture  the  mind 
that  hannonized,  with  so  striking  a  success,  the 
forcefid  with  the  delicate,  the  intricate  with  the 
sinii)le.  It  is  difficult  to  associate  those  giant 
cohnnns  witli  the  delicate  design  on  the  far  ceiling, 
and  still  tliey  belong  together. 

To-day  Baalbec  is  a  splendid  ruin.  Its  courts 
are  filled  with  masses  of  i>rostrate  columns,  shat- 
tered stone  beams  and  masonry.  The  excavators 
ceased  to  work  when  the  ])avement  had  been 
reached.  It  was  not  their  business  to  reconstruct. 
They  had  merely  set  out  to  discover,  and  they 
did  discover,  what  is  undoubtedly  the  acme  of 
Roman  architectural  glory — if  there  be  such  a 
thing,  for  most  of  Baalbec  is  as  Greek  in  its  lines 
as  the  Parthenon  on  the  Acro]>olis. 

But  here  is  a  case  in  which  the  lines. 

The  glory  that  was  Greece 

And  the  splendor  that  was  Rome, 

blend  well  Indeed. 

Much  of  this  splendor  is  left.     Baalbec  the  For- 


IN  THE  LAND   OF  RUINS  AND  ROMANCE 

tress  was  of  great  military  importance  to  the  Ro- 
mans. Baalbec  the  Temples  proclaimed  to  the  Syri- 
ans that  their  masters  in  that  far-off  city  on  the 
Tiber  ruled  not  by  arms  alone. 

Time  has  not  effaced  this  splendor.  Though  the 
Temple  of  the  Sun  be  all  down,  with  exception  of 
the  great  portico;  though  the  Temple  of  Bacchus 
be  no  more  to-day  than  three  great  walls,  and  that 
of  Venus  but  little  more;  though  all  the  lesser 
temples  have  fallen  completely,  their  very  loca- 
tion upon  this  fortress  platform  of  hewn  rock  and 
earth  shows  that  worship  was  conducted  here  on 
a  scale  so  magnificent  that  we  of  to-day  find  it  hard 
to  appreciate  it. 

But  it  is  not  of  material  splendor  alone,  nor  of 
religious  splendor  alone,  that  Baalbec  speaks.  The 
empire  under  Augustus  was  liberal,  and  so  the 
temple  which  in  Rome  would  have  been  dedicated 
to  Jupiter  Zeus  was  here  dedicated  frankly  to  the 
sun — ^Baal.  Rome  had  come  to  understand  that 
you  cannot  force  all  men  to  believe  the  same  thing, 
any  more  than  all  of  them  will  call  the  same  woman 
beautiful. 

The  mighty  ramparts  are  still  well  preserved. 
The  parapet  is  in  place,  the  towers  have  not  yet 
wholly  yielded  to  the  elements.  All  of  these,  like 
the  temple  structures,  were  of  such  strength  that 
neither  time  nor  the  hand  of  the  vandal  could  dam- 
age them  much. 

I  found  parts  of  the  subterranean  vaults  occu- 
pied by  the  horses  of  an  Ottoman  cavalry  regiment. 
Anciently  these  tunnels  served  the  same  purpose. 
Apt  allegorv!     As  the  temples  of  Baalbec  stood 

247 


FROM    BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

alwvo  tlic  war-liorses,  so  rested  tlie  Roman  Em- 
pire on  its  military  strengtli  and  i>ro\voss.  And 
maybe  tiie  Ottoman  eavalry  horses  support  no 
more  tlian  a  ruin.    Quicn  sahe? 

Karababa,  Syria,  May  17th. 

I  am  sitting  in  front  of  the  shack  inliabited 
nornudly  by  tlie  engineer  wlio  is  buil<ling  a  tunnel 
tliat  runs  under  tJie  shack,  and  wJiicli  some  day 
\Aill  allow  Ilaidar  Pasha-Bagdad  passengers  to  get 
under,  instead  of  Iiaving  to  go  over,  the  Km-d 
Dagh,  as  I  did  again  to-day. 

To-night  tlie  engineer  has  company — the  Emden 
officers  and  m;s'self. 

At  Rodjo  I  found  the  major  again,  still  dressed 
as  l)efore,  desi)ite  the  military  crowd  he  had  to 
receive.  As  a  hard-boiled  egg  soldier  he  has  no 
equal  within  my  ken.  But  the  important  part  of 
our  meeting  with  Rodjo  was  that  we  had  brought 
our  wheel  transportation  along  from  Aleppo.  The 
good  arahadshis  of  Mamoreh  and  Osmanieh  had 
heard  we  were  coming,  and  fearing  that  they  w^ould 
be  pressed  into  service — with  little  assurance  that 
the  government  would  ever  pay  them — they  failed 
to  look  for  business  going  southward.  The  vali  of 
Ale])po,  reminded  of  this  peculiarity  of  the  drivers 
in  question,  had  signed  an  order  for  the  requisition 
of  the  needed  vehicles  in  Aleppo.  The  Aleppo 
drivers  protested,  but  their  plaints  fell  on  deaf  ears. 

There  is  nothing  like  a  good  military  training  to 
make  you  careful.  Proof  of  this,  if  proof  were 
needed,  is  in  the  fact  that  we  reached  Karababa 
to-night  instead  of  next  week. 

«48 


IN   THE  LAND  OF  RUINS  AND  ROINIANCE 

IsLAHiAH,  Syria,  May  18th. 

Reception  by  the  kaimmakam  this  noon.  The 
oflScial  insisted  that  the  cokimn  stay  there  for  the 
night,  but  common  sense  and  the  prevalence  of 
typhus  in  the  place  said  him  nay. 

The  reception  was  nothing  to  brag  of  in  dimen- 
sions, but  the  spirit  was  there  and  the  one  thing 
that  was  good.  Never  tasted  such  awful  tea  in 
my  life. 

There  was  an  entertainment,  of  course — a  novel 
one  at  that.  Other  forms  of  visual  pleasure  being 
hard  to  obtain,  the  kaimmakam,  bless  his  heart, 
ordered  a  number  of  bear-trainers  to  put  in  appear- 
ance. They  did,  and  brought  with  them  some  real 
Taiu'us  bears,  also  a  monkey. 

To  the  stopless  notes  of  the  kawal  the  bears 
danced  until  their  tongues  hung  from  their  snouts 
by  the  foot.  Being  a  humane  sort  of  person,  I 
suggested  finally  that  the  player  of  the  kawal  be 
given  a  chance  to  breathe,  seeing  that  he  had 
taken  his  last  breath  fifteen  minutes  ago,  as  far 
as  I  could  judge  by  the  breaks  in  his  music. 

Well,  I  learned  something  there  and  then.  It 
seems  that  the  kawal-pla,yer  breathes  sotto  voce, 
or  sub  rosa,  as  you  might  say.  The  flute-player, 
for  instance,  has  to  breathe  after  so  many  notes. 
Not  the  kawaldshi.  By  some  trick  of  his  pneu- 
matic system  he  manages  to  take  in  air  even  while 
he  is  expelling  it.  This  enables  him  to  run  all  of 
his  notes  together  into  that  plaintive  yelp  in  which 
he  usually  delights. 

We  were  not  the  only  spectators  of  the  bear 
dance.    To  one  side  of  the  konak  stands  the  prison, 

249 


FROM    BERLIN   TO    HACDAl) 

a  small,  oiu-story  ImildiiiK  ot'  hut  a  single  room. 
Into  this  rooin  had  Ihtii  cto\V(1c«1  al)o\il.  forty  pris- 
oners of  all  conditions,  many  of  tliom  soldiers.  I 
a])proaclicd  the  i>lac'o,  but  was  driven  off  by  the 
smell.  To  jud^'e  by  the  laughter  of  the  i>risoiiers, 
when  the  bears  did  something  that  seemed  funny 
to  them,  they  cannot  have  been  in  much  anguish. 
Things  in  the  Orient  are  generally  different. 


VIII 

SOME  CURIOUS  PEOPLE  AND  ODD  EVENTS 

WITH  the  expeditionary  forces  of  Great  Britain 
and  France  fairly  well  rooted  on  Gallipoli 
by  this  time,  I  might  now  undertake  a  description 
of  the  landing  operations  and  the  position  warfare 
that  ensued. 

But  I  am  dealing  principally  with  the  events 
behind  the  scene.  One  of  these  was  the  activity  of 
the  British  submarines  in  the  Sea  of  Marmora. 
The  commanders  of  these  sea-hornets  had  finally 
learned  how  to  get  past  the  Turkish  mines  in  the 
Dardanelles,  and  were  giving  the  Turks  no  end 
of  trouble.  The  more  essential  safe  traffic  on  the 
Sea  of  Marmora  became  to  the  Ottoman  forces 
on  the  peninsula  the  more  hazardous  it  gi-ew. 
For  a  while  the  Turks  lost  no  more  than  one  or  two 
ships  a  week.  It  was  not  long  before  they  lost  from 
four  to  six. 

With  the  supply  of  shipping  very  limited  at  the 
outbreak  of  the  war  and  with  no  means  of  building 
new  ships  the  problem  soon  became  serious. 

When  I  returned  to  Constantinople  from  my  trip 
east  and  south  I  found  that  my  friend,  Raymond 
E.  Swing,  had  returned  also.     He  had  looked  over 

251 


FROM    RERUN   TO   RAC.DAD 

tlu^  T^nl1<an  countries  and  was  now  ready  to  Anew 
tlie  ojH  rat  ions  on  Cialli|MDli.  After  a  j^eat  deal 
of  trouble  and  delay  he  had  been  given  i>ennission 
to  do  that.  But  the  British  navy  also  had  to  be 
consulted. 

Those  who  have  read  Rudyard  Kipling's  Sea 
Talcs'  will  remember  the  story  of  an  American 
journalist  wlio,  under  tragic  circumstances,  in- 
ter\'iewed  in  the  Sea  of  Marmora  the  commander 
of  a  British  submarine.  That  Yankee  reporter  is 
my  friend  Swing. 

I  listened  to  his  tale  of  woe  with  much  interest 
and  ill-concealed  amusement. 

"Say,"  said  Swing,  savagely,  "tell  me  if  you 
find  that  funny.  I  don't.  I  was  almost  drowned, 
and  now  I  have  a  bad  cold  from  exposure.  I  know 
I'll  never  get  out  of  Turkey  alive." 

"Have  some  cherries,"  I  said.  "They  were  pre- 
sented to  me  hy  a  Turkish  kdy  at  Herekeh,  who 
must  have  thought  me  one  of  the  Emden  men. 
The  bunch  of  red  roses  tied  with  the  red  ribbon 
was  also  thrust  u]X)n  me  by  the  fair  damsel." 

"Of  course  you  must  always  get  your  share  of 
everything,"  commented  F.  Swing,  eating  my  cher- 
ries, but  still  resenting  that  I  had  not  taken  a 
tragic  interest  in  his  sad  experience.  "I  suppose 
she  was  very  good-looking.  What  did  she  have 
over  her  face?    Yashmak  or  bilrundchukf" 

*'  Burmidchuk,'^  I  said. 

Swing  was  now  interested.  He  loves  women 
mider  thin  veils. 

"Thought  so!  Homely  women  might  hand  you 
a  sandwich.     They  haven't  the  go  in  them  to  fool 

252 


SOME   CURIOUS    PEOPLE   AND   ODD   EVENTS 

around  with  flowers  and  cherries.  Takes  the  good- 
looking  ones  to  do  that  and  do  it  right.    Eh,  what?" 

The  story  F.  Swing  had  told  was  good.  I  got 
him  to  go  all  over  it  again.    I  must  immortalize  it. 

"Well,"  he  started,  "I  wanted  to  have  a  look 
at  things  on  Gallipoli.  You  had  beaten  me  on  this 
Eviden  thing,  so  I  wanted  to  beat  you  on  the  other." 

I  nodded — to  show  my  friend  that  his  generous 
intentions  were  appreciated. 

"I  got  the  passports  in  the  end.  Then  I  took  the 
first  boat  going  to  Akbash.  Well,  she  wasn't  a 
bad  tub,  but  mighty  slow. 

"So  when  we  got  off  the  southern  point  of  Mar- 
mora Island  a  periscope  comes  bobbing  out  of  the 
water  to  port.  I  happened  to  be  bending  over  the 
rail  and  saw  the  plagued  thing  first. 

"By  the  time  I  had  made  the  skipper  understand 
what  was  what,  the  conning-tower  of  the  submarine 
was  above  water  and  so  were  several  feet  of  the 
forward  deck  of  the  little  tub. 

"The  skipper  understood  that  better  than  he 
did  my  Turkish. 

"From  out  of  the  manhole  of  the  conning-tower 
crawled  a  man — a  British  officer.  Up  to  that 
moment  I  still  hoped  that  the  submarine  would 
prove  to  be  a  German.     Now  I  knew  it  was  all  up. 

"The  Turkish  skipper  had  lost  his  tongue,  it 
seemed.  So  I  took  up  the  conversation.  The  officer 
asked : 

"'Who  are  you.?' 

"'I  am  Mr.  Swing,  war  correspondent  of  the 
Chicago  Daily  News,''  I  shouted. 

"'I  don't  want  to  know  who  you  are.     What 

253 


FROM    in:HLl\    TO    IlACiDAl) 
I   wjinl.   lo   know  is  what  sliij)   thai  is,*  said  tlie 

**'TluMi  wliy  didn't  you  say  so?'  I  remarked. 

'"Never  heen  spoken  to  at  sea,  I  suppose,'  re- 
turned tlie  officer,  sort  of  fresli. 

***Not  in  that  manner,'  says  I. 

'"Well,  what  bloomin'  slii]>  is  it  you  are  on?'  he 
asked. 

'"Don't  know,'  I  re])lied.  'Her  name's  on  her 
how  in  red  letters.  But  I  can't  read  it.  Maybe 
you  can.' 

"The  officer  had  squinted  in  the  direction  of  the 
bow  several  times,  but  the  Arabic  pot-hooks  were 
too  much  for  him.    They  were  for  me. 

***AVhat  sort  of  cargo  does  the  ship  carry?'  asked 
the  officer,  next. 

"'Don't  know,'  I  said.  I  knew  that  she  had 
several  guns  and  a  bunch  of  ammunition  aboard. 
But  that  wasn't  my  business.    Was  it?" 

I  agreed  with  my  friend  that  it  wasn't. 

"'Are  those  sailors  from  the  Turkish  navy  or 
are  they  merchantmen?'  w^as  the  next  question. 

"'Merchantmen,'  I  replied,  without  knowing 
whether  this  w^as  so  or  not.  I  didn't  want  to  go 
to  the  bottom  of  the  Marmora  without  making  a 
bid  for  getting  ashore  somewhere. 

'"What  are  they  wearing  those  red  hats  for?' 
asked  the  officer. 

'"All  Turks  wear  red  hats,'  I  answered.  *  Those 
things  are  fezzes,' 

"'I  see,'  remarked  the  officer.     'Tell  the  captain 

that  he  and  his  men  will  have  ten  minutes  in  which 

to  get  off  the  boat.    I  am  going  to  sink  her.' 

i5i 


SOME   CURIOUS    PEOPLE   AND   ODD   EVENTS 

*'The  Turks  had  already  swung  out  two  of  the 
boats,  and  were  getting  the  third  clear  of  the 
davits.  But  there  was  great  excitement,  never- 
theless. The  skipper  was  one  of  the  first  to  bring 
his  precious  liide  into  safety — never  mind  the  pas- 
senger. The  crew  ran  about  in  all  directions,  and 
in  the  end  the  submarine  artist  lost  his  patience. 
I  was  keeping  my  eyes  on  him,  for  fear  that  he 
might  make  a  false  move  and  fire  a  torpedo  while 
I  wasn't  looking. 

'"Tell  those  Turks  that  if  they  aren't  off  in  two 
minutes,  I  sink  the  tub  with  tliem  on,'  shouted  the 
oflBcer. 

"Two  minutes  seemed  a  short  time  to  me.  So 
I  didn't  bother  about  my  baggage.  I  jumped  to 
the  nearest  davit,  seized  a  rope,  and  slid  down  into 
the  boat.    Then  we  rowed  off. 

"Well,  the  tub  went  down  in  two  minutes.  That 
fellow  believes  in  being  as  good  as  his  word.  My 
baggage  went  down,  of  course — camera  and  all, 
such  a  good  camera  at  that.  All  of  my  field  equip- 
ment is  gone,  also  my  canned  stuff." 

Poor  F.  Swing! 

"And  after  that.''"  I  inquired. 

"Well,  we  rowed  out  of  the  way  of  the  explosion. 

The  E  III-  dived  out  of   sight  and  we  started  on 

that  long  paddle  to  Rodosto.     They  wouldn't  let 

me  land  there  at  first,   seeing  that  my  passport 

read  for  Akbash.    My  landing  at  Rodosto  was  not 

entirely  regular,   therefore.     The  commandant  of 

the  place  realized  in  the  end  that  it  wasn't  my 

fault.     There  is  something  to  that  effect  on  my 

passport,   which  he  wrote  in  red  ink  to  have  it 
17  255 


FROM    BERLIN    TO  BACIDAD 

separaio  from  \hv  (tllicr  authorizations,  'riioii  I 
pot  an  araha  lo  ]Muni<llu,  took  tlio  train  there,  and 
here  I  am-  ahnost  busted." 

Sueh  is  the  tale  of  shipwTcck  of  Raymond  E. 
Swing  Effendi. 

Mai/  31d. 

Tliere  is  out*  tiling  which  but  few  Occidentals 
do  in  Constantinople  or  anywhere  in  Turkey — 
see  the  inside  of  a  Turkish  home.  F.  Swing  and 
I  have  done  that  on  some  other  occasion.  This 
afternoon  we  attendetl  a  tea. 

It  was  Fuad  Rechad  Bey  Efiendi,  the  student 
ofhccr  from  the  Dardanelles,  who  suggested  this. 
Since  he  Ix'came  a  full-fledged  lieutenant  he  is  hard 
to  keep  in  check,  anyway. 

"I  would  like  you  to  meet  my  sister,"  he  said. 
"Let's  go  to  the  house  this  afternoon  and  have  tea." 

If  he  thought  that  reconcilable  mth  the  notions 
of  a  Turkish  household,  then  far  was  it  from  me  to 
say  him  nay. 

F.  Swing  was  delighted. 

We  hired  a  caique  or  caik  or  kaik — the  thing  is 
spelled  in  all  possible  ways — and  had  the  boatman 
pull  us  across  the  blue  Bosphorus.  Never  saw  a 
body  of  plain  salt  water  look  so  attractive. 

Dear  Bosi)horus!  The  water,  as  said,  was  blue, 
in  its  best  blue.  Right  above  it  perched  the  ter- 
races of  Pera  and  Galata,  on  the  left;  while  to  the 
right  lay,  dormant  in  the  hot  sun,  that  oddest  of 
cities,  Stamboul.  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  Serai 
Park  and  the  long  fac^ades  of  the  Sublime  Porte,  of 
the  hundreds  of  minarets,   extending  like  frosted 

25G 


SOME   CURIOUS    PEOPLE   AND   ODD   EVENTS 

icicles  into  the  burning  sky;  of  the  Httle  pink 
houses  in  the  treetops,  and  the  old  Byzantian 
wall  on  the  water's  edge,  and  felt  that  while  a 
man  might  hate  to  leave  paradise,  he  could  do  so 
willingly  if  the  Bosphorus  shores  were  to  be  his 
future  abode. 

The  Leander  Tower  beckoned  to  me  not  to  mind 
the  ugly  Gothic  traits  in  the  Haidar  Pasha  rail- 
road terminal,  and  from  Iscutar  smiled  other  pink, 
yellow,  and  brown  houses  from  the  opulent  foliage. 

The  Greek  caiquedshi  perspired  freely.  He  was 
pulling  against  the  current.  That  gave  me  time 
to  enjoy  the  Bosphorus  all  the  longer.  There  was 
the  Galata  Tower,  rearing  its  proud  form  above 
the  houses  at  its  base.  Further  down  were  several 
marble  mosques  and  their  white  minarets.  Then 
came  the  Dolma  Bagtche  Palace,  with  the  Yildiz 
Palace  right  above.  The  frowning,  massive  front 
of  the  German  embassy  in  front  of  Les  Grands 
Champs  des  Moris  seemed  to  say  that  it  had  a  right 
there  —  things  diplomatic  do  have  a  way  of 
intruding. 

To  the  right  was  Kuskundchuk,  with  its  villas 
and  gardens.  The  Judas-tree  was  in  bloom,  and 
the  wistaria  had  run  riot.  The  oleander  and  mur- 
wer  trees  were  blooming  as  they  had  never  done 
before,  I  swear.  Greens  of  the  most  opulent  and 
softest  shades  greeted  the  eye  everywhere,  and  out 
of  them  stood,  in  majestic  gloom — as  a  reminder 
that  after  summer  comes  the  winter,  and  after 
life,  death — the  tall  and  somber  cypress. 

We  were  pulling  along  the  Asiatic  shore  now, 
to  get  out  of  the  current.    The  houses  bathe  their 

257 


FRO>[   BERLIN   TO   lUGDAD 

feet  in  the  cool  floods  of  the  Bosphonis.  The 
celhir  walls  are  i)ierceci  by  arclies,  and  under  the 
arch  stands  the  family's  caique.  Little  jetties  and 
piers  run  into  the  water  at  the  end  of  the  streets 
that  climb  up  the  steep  hills — on  stairs,  if  there  is 
no  other  way.  And  still  from  everywhere  dashes  of 
Judas-tree,  wistaria,  oleander,  and  murwer.  What 
a  world  to  waste  your  life  in!  For  wasting  life  on 
the  Bosphorus  is  not  what  wasting  it  elsewhere 
would  be.    It  is  not  a  sin — it  is  a  virtue. 

The  caiqiicdshi  said  he  would  wait  for  us  at  so 
uuich  per  hour.  The  price  he  demanded  suggested 
that  he  thought  he  was  dealing  with  patrons  bent 
on  a  gallant  adventure.  We  disabused  his  mind 
quickly. 

So  we  walked  under  the  trees,  peeping  curiously 
over  the  garden  walls,  climbed  a  stair  uphill  run- 
ning in  a  wistaria  bower,  and  came  to  the  house 
of  Fuad  Rechad  Bey  Effendi,  son  of  a  former  juge 
de  cassation  at  an  Ottoman  court  in  Stamboul. 

Fuad  had  telephoned,  so  we  were  expected.  The 
Greek  servant  said  as  much  when  Fuad  told  her 
to  notify  his  sister  that  we  had  arrived. 

The  house  is  large  and  comfortable,  furnished 
in  quasi  Occidental  fashion — at  least  the  reception- 
hall  and  salon  were.  A  sort  of  study  and  living- 
room  combined  was  similarly  furnished. 

Carpets,  of  course,  were  splendid.  One  does  not 
find  i>oor  carpets  and  rugs  in  a  Turkish  home.  The 
cheap  stuff  is  sold  to  the  stranger.  The  furniture, 
what  little  tlu^re  was,  was  good. 

In  the  si>acious  salon  there  was  but  a  single  table, 
a  Louis  Quatorze  thing  with  a  heavy  onyx  top. 

id58 


SOME   CURIOUS    PEOPLE   AND   ODD   EVENTS 

Six  Louis  Quatorze  chairs,  and  a  similar  ottoman, 
completed  the  garniture.  Fine  lace  curtains  were 
floating  in  the  breeze  entering  through  the  five 
open  windows. 

Beyond  the  windows  facing  the  Bosphorus  lay  a 
wooden  veranda.  Underneath  the  veranda  was  a 
well-kept  flower-garden,  to  one  side  a  vegetable-plot, 
and  in  front  nothing,  the  house  standing  on  a 
steep  slope.  Over  the  garden  wall  I  could  see  the 
roofs  of  the  buildings  in  the  street  far  below. 

I  returned  to  the  salon.  The  maid  had  announced 
that  the  lady  was  about  ready  to  come  down. 

F.  Swing  and  I  are  very  fond  of  Fuad.  I  am 
sure  we  could  not  love  a  brother  more  or  better. 

Again  the  maid  entered.  This  time  she  stood 
aside  to  let  a  young  woman  pass. 

We  rose. 

"My  sister,  gentlemen — Lahika  Hannym!  Allow 
me  to  introduce  our  guests,"  said  Fuad,  in  polished 
French. 

As  Fuad  mentioned  our  names  we  cracked  our 
heels  and  bowed. 

Lahika  Hannym  salaamed — greeted  us  as  only 
the  Turkish  woman  can  greet.  The  grace  of  her 
slight  bow,  the  short  swing  of  her  hand,  the  inclina- 
tion of  the  head,  the  words  she  said,  formed  a  per- 
fect picture  of  what  a  greeting  should  be.  Then 
she  gathered  the  folds  of  her  silk  gown  in  her  small 
hand  and  walked  to  the  other  end  of  the  room,  where 
she  sat  down. 

The  full  longitudinal  extent  of  the  large  room 
was  now  between  hostess  and  visitors. 

As  tea  was  being  served  Lahika  Hannym  grew 

259 


FROM    BERLIN  TO   BAGDAD 

more  sonal)l<\  She  sal  iioar  us  and  began  to  ask 
questions — cjueslions  concerning  I  lie  Western  world, 
the  \\orld  she  wanted  to  see,  to  know,  to  under- 
stand. She  knew  nothing  of  the  Occident,  she 
said.  AH  her  knowledge  of  the  other  world,  as  she 
])ut  it,  came  from  French  novels,  and  recently  she 
iiad  become  convinced  that  the  French  novelists 
did  not  nnderstan<l  tlie  part  of  the  Occident  which 
was  not  strictl>»'  theirs, 

"Oh,  I  am  not  so  lonesome!"  she  smiled.  "There 
is  my  mother.  You  know  she  wouldn't  come  down. 
I  asked  her  to  come,  seeing  that  you  are  such  good 
friends  of  my  brother's.  But  maman  is  still  of  the 
Old  Turkey.  I  am  a  little  more  modern — just  a 
little,  not  so  much. 

"And  do  you  know  that  I  had  asked  a  friend  of 
mine  to  meet  ^'ou?  Well,  she,  too,  was  afraid. 
She  thought  that  her  parents  and  friends  might 
not  like  it  if  it  became  known  that  she  had  been  seen 
by  Christians. 

"I  told  her  she  could  wear  a  biiriindchuk  or  even 
a  yashmak,  if  she  w^anted  to.  At  first  she  was  half 
inclined  to  do  that.  But  in  the  end  her  courage 
failed  her. 

"Have  you  seen  our  garden?  What  do  you  think 
of  it?  It  is  not  as  large  as  we  would  like  to  have 
it.  But  fatlier  wasn't  a  rich  man,  and  my  brother 
here  says  the  place  is  good  enough  for  us.  Isn't 
this  war  terrible — ires  terrible?" 

Lahika  Hannym  had  demonstrated  that  she 
could  be  communicative.  Fuad  smiled  at  some  of 
the  droll  things  she  said.     He  began  to  tease  her. 

"Well,  I  can't  know  as  much  as  you  do,"  she 

260 


SOME   CURIOUS    PEOPLE   AND   ODD   EVENTS 

said.  "You  have  been  in  Paris.  I — well,  I  have 
spent  all  my  life  here.  When  I  go  to  Pera  it  is 
quite  an  event.  To  go  to  the  magasin  becomes  a 
veritable  trip.  Father  used  to  take  me  along  when 
he  had  business  in  the  country.  Since  he  died  I 
haven't  been  anywhere. 

"Fuad,  you  see" — she  turned  to  her  visitors — 
"never  takes  me  out.  And,  anyway,  since  he  has 
been  in  the  army  he  hasn't  had  the  time.  Do  you 
think  we  will  win  this  war.''" 

We  spent  two  most  enjoyable  hours  at  the  house. 
Then  we  had  to  leave  for  Pera.  Lahika  Hannjon 
waved  a  handkerchief  as  her  brother  and  we  went 
down  the  hill.    A  charming  young  woman  indeed! 

June  6th. 

Well,  we  newspaper-men  must  work  when  there 
is  work.  We  could  never  belong  to  a  union  regu- 
lating the  days  and  hours  of  work. 

F.  Swing  and  I  inter\aewed  Captain-Lieutenant 
Otto  Hersing  to-day.  The  captain,  commander  of 
the  German  submarine  U  51,  had  just  been 
notified  that  his  august  master.  Emperor  William 
of  Germany,  had  conferred  upon  him  the  order 
"Pour  le  Merite"  for  having  sunk  on  May  25th, 
at  12.30  P.M.,  off  Ariburnu,  the  British  Hue  ship 
Triumph,  and  on  May  27th,  at  6.30  a.m.,  near  the 
same  spot,  the  British  line  ship  Majestic.  The 
captain  has  some  other  exploits  to  his  credit.  On 
May  27th,  about  9  a.m.  he  sent  a  torpedo  into  the 
side  of  a  British  line  ship  of  the  Agamemnon  type, 
and  three  days  later  he  sank  a  troop-transport  near 
Lemnos. 

261 


FROM    HKRIJX   TO   TUCDAl) 

Refon^  tlial,  S('i>lciiil)('r  1.5,  l!)14,  lio  had  sunk 
tlu'  Hritisli  cruisrr  I'atlifuidcr,  I  wo  Fivncli  trans- 
}K)rls.  aiul  had  sliot  up  llio  port  of  Brest.  Coming 
out  of  that  i)ort,  he  liad  dis]>osed  of  five  British 
nierciiantineu. 

He  is  tlie  first  (lernian  sul)marine  commander 
who  has  made  the  trip  from  Wilhehnshaven  to  the 
Danhiuelles  by  way  of  (nhrallar.  lie  needed  just 
a  month  for  this  exploit,  k'aving  tJie  (iernum  |X)rt 
on  April  25th  and  getting  into  the  Sid-il-Bahr 
offing  on  May  '25th,  an  hour  before  he  fired  his 
first  torpedo. 

This  modern  corsair  proved  a  most  interesting 
man.  He  is  about  thirty  years  old,  tall  and  slim, 
blond,  blue-eyed,  hook-nosed,  steel-jawed,  tanned, 
and  ninety-five  |>er  cent,  good  humor. 

The  fact  that  he  had  sent  to  the  bottom  of  the 
deep  some  three  thousand  men  in  his  time  meant 
nothing  to  him,  he  said.  That  was  his  duty. 
When  he  was  on  duty  he  could  not  be  monkeyed 
with;  when  he  was  off  duty — well,  would  we  have 
another  bottle  of  champagne? 

Like  most  German  naval  officers.  Captain  Hersing 
speaks  English  with  a  fluency  that  is  surprising. 
Captain  Hersing  used  slang  phrases  of  American 
origin.  Oh,  he  had  been  in  tlie  States.  He  knew 
them  well.  Had  made  many  good  friends  in 
Buffalo,  in  Boston,  in  New  Orleans.  Did  he  know 
the  States! 

"Well,  that  fellow  I  got  on  the  twenty -fifth 
didn't  know  what  struck  him,"  he  said.  "I  can 
understand  that.  It's  not  to  be  expected  that  a 
thing  that  has  never  hai)i)ened  before  in  tliat  spot 

-Mi 


SOME   CURIOUS    PEOPLE   AND   ODD   EVENTS 

should  just  happen  to  you.  I  fired  the  torpedo 
and  got  from  under.  There  was  no  exchange  of 
cards. 

"But  that  I  got  the  Majestic  so  easily  surprised 
me.  Of  course  she  was  duly  surrounded  by  cruisers 
and  torpedo-boats.  But  I  got  my  line  on  a  cruiser, 
let  her  go  over  me,  lived  in  a  sort  of  big  drum  as 
the  propellers  churned  over  my  cockleshell,  and 
then — bingo ! 

"Have  another.? 

"You  see  this  submarine  life  is  good  so  long  as  it 
lasts.  Every  time  we  go  under  the  water  we  may 
have  closed  our  own  coffin-lid. 

"But  you  get  used  to  that.  .  .  .  My!  this  stuff  is 
good!  You  know  I  am  a  great  admirer  of  the 
French.  Their  champagne  is  certainly  what  Homer 
meant  by  nectar.  Was  it  Homer  .^^  I  am  not  sure 
now.    Well,  it  doesn't  matter,  anyway ! 

"And  then  life  on  a  submarine  is  all  hard  work. 
Six-hour  shifts,  you  know.  Six  wet  hours,  when  you 
are  out  of  the  water,  and  twenty-four  hours  of 
bad  air  when  you  are  under.  You  can't  stretch 
in  the  blooming  thing.  When  you  poke  your  foot 
under  the  table  you  have  upset  the  equilibrium 
of  the  shuttle,  and  when  you  eat  a  meal  you  have 
to  rearrange  the  other  cargo. 

"Here  is  to  a  merry  life,  even  if  it  be  a  short  one!" 

June  12th. 

The  building  of  the  Ottoman  Ministry  of  War  in 
Stamboul  is  noted  for  its  large  rooms.  Right  above 
the  main  entrance  are  located  two  of  the  largest 
of   them   all — the   antechamber   to   the  offices   of 

2G3 


FROM   BERLIN  TO   BAGDAD 

Envcr  Pasha,  looalod  on  the  socoikI  floor,  and  the 
waiting-room  on  tlie  floor  ahove,  where  the  visitors 
of  Colonel  von  Bronsart  cool  their  heels. 

I  was  sitting  in  the  tencJJ'iis's  odassy  of  Enver 
Pasha  this  afternoon.  It  was  about  the  time  of  the 
muezzin  s  afternoon  call  for  prayer.  Ilis  Excellency, 
the  ^Minister  of  AYar  and  Vice-Generalissimo  of  the 
Ottoman  Arm}-,  just  then  also  charged  with  the 
duties  of  the  Minister  of  Marine  and  a  few  other 
things,  was  very  husy,  I  had  learned,  but  would 
receive  me  as  soon  as  he  could, 

I  began  to  study  the  vast  hall.  I  judged  it  to  be 
sixty  feet  long,  fifty  feet  wide,  and  twenty-five  feet 
high.  Noble  proportions.  On  t.lie  floor  was  a  rich 
carpet  done  in  blues,  slates,  and  white.  The  walls 
were  of  neutral  buff  tint,  the  ceiling  being  very 
plainly  decorated.  There  are  mantels  at  both  ends 
of  the  room.  Over  one  hangs  a  picture  of  the  first 
Turkish  a\'iator — dead  now. 

Between  the  large  windows,  looking  upon  the 
great  square,  is  a  high  mirror  with  a  white  frame. 
On  the  console  in  front  of  the  glass  stand  two  clocks, 
one  showing  the  hour  alia  Franca,  the  other  alia 
Turca. 

The  fiu'niture  in  the  apartment  is  richly  up- 
holstered in  red  tending  strongly  toward  maroon 
— the  red  of  the  Ottoman  fez.  Four  ottomans 
stand  along  the  walls;  there  is  a  heavy  carved  table 
in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  around  it  a  dozen 
Jauteuils.  From  the  high  ceiling  hang  candela- 
bra of  cut  glass,  relieved  by  disks  in  blue-and-white 
enamel. 

A  verv,  very  modern  room.     Nothing  so  far  to 

264 


SOME   CURIOUS   PEOPLE   AND   ODD   EVENTS 

suggest  that  we  are  not  in  some  Western  Ministry 
of  War. 

But  the  wall  facing  the  windows  is  very  Oriental, 
very  Turkish.  In  huge  glass  cases,  divided  in  their 
middle  by  a  door  draped  with  a  maroon  portiere, 
stand  and  hang  specimens  of  all  the  arms  ever  used 
by  the  Ottoman  army,  and  some  of  the  victorious 
Ottoman  standards — flags  of  red  and  green,  all  of 
them  faded,  all  of  them  torn,  all  of  them  em- 
broidered with  the  name  of  the  organization  that 
carried  them  into  battle;  also  the  star  and  crescent, 
and  the  peculiar  snarled  lines  representing  the 
name  of  the  padishak. 

There  are  arms  here  of  every  description.  Fire- 
arms range  from  the  most  ancient  flintlock  to  the 
prototype  of  the  old  Snyder.  There  are  rifles  and 
pistols — rifles  that  must  have  been  served  by  two 
men,  and  pistols  which  only  the  brawny  fist  of  an 
Anatolian  could  handle. 

In  swords  and  scimitars,  daggers  and  stilettos, 
the  collection  is  richer  yet.  Most  of  the  blades 
have  that  vicious  look  which  bending  and  flaming 
gives  them.  Some  of  the  scabbards  are  handsome 
pieces  of  the  gold-  and  silver-smiths'  art.  Many 
of  the  blades  are  damascened  so  finely  that  any 
little  piece  of  them  would  make  a  handsome  brooch 
or  some  such  bauble.  The  same  may  be  said  of 
the  many  different  forms  of  stirrups  and  other 
trappings  in  the  cases.  Every  item  in  the  collec- 
tion is  worth  its  weight  in  gold  to  the  collector. 

I  was  wondering  from  how  many  battle-fields 
these  arms  came,  how  much  they  contributed  to 
the  rise  of  the  empire,  and  how  much  they  had 

265 


FROM    HERLIN   TO    UA(.DAl) 

lofi  iindoiu'  lo  i>rovont  its  downward  career  when 
tho  ntiiczzin  in  tlio  open  court  began  his  summons 
to  tlie  faithful  to  come  to  Allah  for  ])rayer.  I  tried 
to  j)icture  to  me  an  Ottoman  staff -officer  leaving 
his  work  at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  to  spreaxl 
out  his  ]>ray(M--rug  and  pray  for  ten  minutes.  1 
tried  to  imagine  what  Enver  Pasha  would  say  to 
that,  Enver  PasJia,  the  indefatigable,  the  ever- 
ready  and  ahnost  omnipotent  genius  of  the  war. 

Tlie  muezzin  continued.  At  first  his  voice  was 
natural  enough;  then  it  reached  a  sort  of  falsetto, 
slii'ill  and  j)enetrating,  rising  and  falling;  now 
]>laintive  full  notes,  then  quavers  of  uneven  and 
disagreeable  duration.  Again  the  chant  fell  to 
the  muezzin  s  natural  tenor,  and  again  it  rose — 
rose  to  a  ]>innaclc  of  shrillness  that  grated  on  the 
nerves  like  the  screams  of  a  saw  under  the  file  of 
the  sharpener.  Then  it  fell  again — to  die  in  several 
Allah,  Allah,  Allah's. 

Boom!  crash!  Down  in  the  courtyard  bass 
drum  and  cymbals  had  taken  up  the  lead  in  a  mod- 
ern military  march.  The  light  brasses  and  flutes 
were  racing  off  in  inspiring  runs,  while  some  oboes 
were  leading  the  melody.  The  heavy  horns  brought 
up  the  rear  with  much  dignity. 

The  Ottoman  army's  best  band  was  giving  its 
regular  afternoon  concert  in  the  building.  It  fol- 
lowed tlie  call  of  the  muezzin  like  thunder  follows 
lightning. 

And  yet  the  two  did  not  fit  together,  it  seemed. 
As  oV)jects  of  contrast  they  could  not  have  been 
better  selected.  There  was  something  astounding 
in  the  change  from  one  to  the  other.   The  sunnnons 

266 


SOME    CURIOUS   PEOPLE   AND   ODD   EVENTS 

that  had  been  heard  a  bilHon  times  from  thousands 
of  graceful  minarets  in  the  dormant  cities  and 
peaceful  villages,  and  out  on  the  still  desert,  did 
seem  to  be  too  good  a  companion  for  the  crashing, 
blaring  march  the  band  was  playing. 

I  turned  to  see  what  effect  the  thing  had  on 
the  waiting  visitors  in  the  room.  Most  of  the  faces 
were  wrapped  in  resignation  to  wait  until  their 
turn  should  come.  They  all  wanted  to  see  Enver 
Pasha,  and  many  of  them  had  been  on  the  list 
yesterday,  would  be  on  the  list  to-morrow.  Some 
of  them  would  be  on  the  list  next  week,  next  month. 

It  was  not  an  uninteresting  assembly.  Several 
were  in  uniform.  Ottoman  officers,  and  German 
officers  in  the  Ottoman  service  and  uniform.  They 
were  dressed  in  olive-drab,  booted  and  spurred, 
sabers  hanging  from  tan  belts,  head  being  covered 
with  the  fur  calpac,  despite  the  heat. 

A  rather  fit  lot,  I  thought.  Two  of  the  officers 
had  either  come  from,  or  were  going  into,  the  field, 
to  judge  by  their  enveriahs — a  field  headgear  made 
of  stiff  cloth  in  the  form  of  a  helmet. 

A  goodly  number  of  civilians  were  in  the  room. 
Turks  in  the  regulation  Ottoman  frock-coat — cut 
like  any  other,  but  having  a  plain  collar  closing  high 
around  the  neck;  Arabs  in  turban  and  burnoose; 
an  African  sheik  similarly  dressed  but  black  of 
face;  two  Persians  in  kaftan  and  black  lamb  calpacs; 
a  dervish  in  a  brown  burnoose  and  high  felt  calpac, 
gray  of  color;  two  hodjas  in  gray  frocks  and  green 
turbans;  and  a  Greek  contractor  whom  I  happened 
to  know.  The  Swedish  military  attache  came  in, 
nattily  attired  in  a  dark -blue  uniform,  cavalry  cut. 


267 


FROM    lUnnJN   TO   lUCDAD 

factnl  witli  a  light  or  1)1  ue.  A  student-interpreter 
of  llio  Animcan  onihassy  appeared. 

'V\\c  baml  in  tlie  courtyard  took  up  a  Wagner 
overt uro  and  playetl  it  well.  I  fell  once  more  to 
.stutlying  the  collection  of  arms. 

I  saw  Enver  Pasha.  We  discussed  the  latest 
phase  of  the  operations  on  Gallipoli.  But  no  in- 
terview resulted. 

"You  can  use  what  I  told  you,'*  he  said.  "But 
don't  mention  my  name.  I  hate  to  see  my  name  in 
a  newspaper." 

Smart  child  of  a  clever  mother,  I  thouglit.  The 
wise  statesman  never  gets  into  the  newspapers 
with  liis  consent. 

Ju77e  26th. 

The  man  and  I — I  can't  mention  his  name;  it 
would  not  be  ethical — were  having  dinner  in  the 
Petit  Club  together.  AVe  were  sitting  at  the 
"American"  table,  in  the  large  general  dining- 
room  on  the  ground  floor.  My  vis-a-vis  did  not 
know  what  I  had  in  store  for  him,  seeing  that  my 
invitation  that  he  dine  with  me  came  quite  casually. 

"Joe"  had  served  our  demi-tasses.  We  had 
lighted  our  cigarettes. 

"Got  something  to  tell  you,"  I  said.  To  prepare 
him  for  the  shock,  I  added:  "There  is  nobody  in 
the  room.    I  can  tell  you  here." 

My  guest's  eyes  widened.  I  saw  that  he  paled 
a  little.  I  wanted  to  hear  him  speak,  so  that  I 
might  the  better  judge  to  what  extent  my  words  had 
touched  him.  But  he  wouldn't.  Instead  he  looked 
at  me  in  a  mixture  of  amazement  and  dread. 

268 


SOME   CURIOUS    PEOPLE   AND   ODD   EVENTS 

"Might  just  as  well  tell  you  the  worst.  I'm 
sure  you  can  stand  it.  They've  got  your  number," 
I  said,  somewhat  indignant,  now  that  the  man  had 
dragged  my  profession  into  the  mud. 

"Got  my  number.'^  What  do  you  mean.^^  Who's 
got  my  number.'^"  asked  my  vis-a-vis. 

"The  Turks  and  the  Germans — also  the  Amer- 
ican embassy.  Your  passport  wasn't  renewed,"  I 
said,  lightly,  not  wishing  to  add  to  the  troubles  of 
the  young  man. 

"How  do  you  know  my  passport  wasn't  re- 
newed?" he  asked,  hoping  to  prove  me  wrong  in 
what  I  knew  to  be  a  fact. 

"I  know  it  and  you  know  it.  You  were  told 
two  days  ago,"  I  explained.  "Now  don't  get  fussy 
about  this.  I  think  there  is  a  boat  for  Constanza 
to-morrow  morning.  You  better  take  that  and 
shake  the  dust  of  this  city  and  country  off  your 
shoes.  If  you  are  here  longer  than  the  next  boat 
the  Turks  will  arrest  you  and  try  you  for  spying. 
The  case  against  you  looks  bad — as  you  ought  to 
feel,  if  not  know." 

Instead  of  showing  a  little  appreciation  of  my 
efforts,  the  young  man  began  to  argue  with  me. 
I  had  to  show  him  where  he  had  been  and  when 
he  had  been  there.  In  the  end  he  admitted  it. 
The  great  barracks  in  Haidar  Pasha,  where  the 
troops  for  the  Gallipoli  peninsula  were  assembled, 
had  been  one  of  his  favorite  hunting-grounds.  He 
had  been  in  or  near  every  arsenal  around  Con- 
stantinople. Only  yesterday  he  had  been  seen 
loitering  near  the  Osmanieh  wireless  station — he 
had,  in  fact,  not  overlooked  a  single  point  of  mili- 

269 


FROM    BKRI-IN     TO    H Ad  DAD 

lary  iiiterosl,  down  to  I  ho  anchorage  of  the  Goehcn 
a  I   St<Miia. 

"1  think  you  owe  your  froodoin  al  this  nionienl 
lo  nolhin^^  hut  I  lie  fad  thai  llie  Turks  and  Gernums 
still  helievo  thai  you  arc  an  American  citizen, 
which  you  know  you  are  not.  The  American  Stalx' 
Department  has  turninl  down  your  application  for 
a  State  Department  j)assport.  How  you  j];ot  the 
other  one  from  the  American  embassy  in  London 
I  don't  know.  It  is  none  of  my  business.  Just 
take  my  advice  and  sail  on  the  next  boat  for  Ru- 
mania. It  seems  that  tlie  Sublime  Porte  docs  not 
want  to  liave  any  trouble  with  the  T  nite<l  States 
government  concerning  you.  All  that  will  change 
when  they  discover  that  the  State  Department  has 
turm^d  down  ^'our  application.  It  will  interest  you 
to  hear  tliat  I  know  that  you  were  l)orn  in  Scotland, 
are  a  British  subject,  and  have  served  as  a  lieutenant 
with  the  English  army  in  France." 

The  young  man  had  nothing  to  say. 

*'That  you  want  to  help  your  country  is  very 
proper — is  your  duty,"  I  continued.  "But  I  do 
not  think  you  ought  to  do  it  with  an  American 
passport.  That  you  do  it  as  a  newspaper-man  I 
must  resent.  Vov  that  I  could  see  you  swing  from 
a  trijwd  in  the  morning  without  turning  a  hair. 
Most  of  us  try  to  play  this  tickhsh  game  in  a  fair 
manner,  and  we  can't  stand  for  every  Tom,  Dick, 
and  Harry  fouling  oiu'  nest  that  way.  You  better 
take  that  boat.  If  I  were  you  I  wouldn't  stick  to  that 
game.  You  are  not  built  for  it.  Permit  me  to  say 
that  1  do  not  think  you  are  smart  enough.  You  must 
leave  that  sort  of  business  to  a  slicker  person." 

270 


SOME  CURIOUS    PEOPLE  AND  ODD    EVENTS 

So  we  parted.  It  was  a  case  of  love's  labor  lost. 
I  don't  think  the  young  man  will  ever  appreciate 
how  near  he  came  to  paying  the  penalty  of  spying. 

July  3d. 

F.  Swing  and  I  met  Lieutenant  Firle,  commander 
of  the  Ottoman  torpedo-boat  Muhawenet  Millie^ 
to-day.  In  the  night  of  May  13th  he  sank  the 
British  line  ship  Goliath  in  as  daring  a  manner  as 
any  one  could  imagine. 

Firle  is  a  slight  young  man.  My  first  impression 
was  that  I  had  met  him  somewhere  on  a  picture 
showing  a  dancing-master  in  the  act  of  pirouetting 
as  a  graceful  example  for  his  little  girl  students  to 
follow.  He  looked  positively  frail.  His  face  had 
something  superintellectual  about  it.  I  never 
should  have  picked  him  as  a  naval  officer — least 
of  all  for  one  who  could  have  done  what  he  did 
on  that  night. 

It  seems  that  he  had  for  a  long  time  occupied 
himself  with  a  certain  pet  idea.  That  idea  was 
that  he  could  go  out  of  the  Dardanelles  and  torpedo 
one  of  the  Allied  battle-ships  off  Sid-il-Bahr. 

Admiral  Souchon  and  the  Ottoman  naval  au- 
thorities had  listened  to  this  proposal  with  con- 
siderable patience  but  little  interest.  How  could 
one  of  the  lame  ducks  of  the  Muhawenet  Millie 
variety  venture  out  to  Sid-il-Bahr  and  return? 
The  wheezy  engine  was  able  to  make  fourteen  knots, 
and  the  coal  available  would  raise  enough  sparks 
under  draught  to  show  the  boat  twenty  miles  up 
the  straits. 

But  Firle  persisted.     He  wanted  to  do  something, 

18  271 


I'KOM    IU:]{LIN     I'O    HACDAI) 

an<l  was  sure  llial  lli(>  somolhiii^"  lu'  lia<l  ])i('kt*(1 
was  williiii  iH'asou  aiul  roach. 

In  [\\v  end  ho  won. 

Ho  wailo<l  for  a  sultry  ni^lii — hours  in  which 
tlioro  is  low  visihilily.  All  day  long  llio  Mnhawcnd 
Millie  had  stood  by  under  the  cape  at  Kilid-il- 
l^ahr.  AVhou  nii^ht  canie.  Firle,  hugging  the  shore, 
slii)i)o<l  down  as  far  as  the  Sluivan  Dereh  and  wailed. 

Luck  stood  by  him.  He  had  good  reason  to 
believe  that  part  of  the  Allied  fleet  lay  in  Morto 
Bay.  Taking  the  risk  of  running  onto  a  Turkish 
mine,  .he  cut  a  little  into  Erenkoi  Bay,  and  spied 
the  lights  of  some  boats  under  Eski-Hissarlik. 

There  was  no  longer  any  use  sticking  to  hide- 
and-seek.  Quite  frankly  he  held  for  Morto  Bay 
and  ran  into  three  British  patrol-boats.  He  was 
not  challenged  by  them;  evidently'  the  scouts  were 
under  the  impression  that  the  torpedo-boat  which 
so  imconcernedly  plied  the  bay  was  one  of  their  own 
naval  force. 

The  Muhawenet  Millie  kept  to  her  course  for 
^lorto  Bay,  but  had  not  gone  very  far  when  she 
passed  a  British  destroyer.  Firle  felt  a  little 
squeamish  then.  A  destroyer  makes  ui)on  the  com- 
mander of  a  mere  torpedo-boat  about  the  same 
impression  that  the  birch  makes  upon  the  bad 
boy.  The  destroyer  is  the  particular  enemy  of  the 
torpedo-boat,  just  as  the  cat  is  the  particular  en- 
emy of  the  mouse. 

Firle  set  his  teeth  and  went  on. 

Around  the  Eski  -  Hissarlik  promontory  came 
nuich  battle-ship  noise.  Also,  as  the  lieutenant 
noticed,  a  signal  spelling  tlie  Morse  letter  "O." 

272 


SOME   CURIOUS    PEOPLE  AND   ODD    EVENTS 

That  was  awkward.  But  Firle  thought  quickly. 
He  didn't  know  what  the  letter  might  mean,  but 
conchided  that  it  was  a  question — one  he  could 
not  answer.  The  best  thing  to  do  was  to  repeat 
that  letter  "O,"  impressing  the  other  side  with  the 
fact  that  at  least  something  had  been  understood. 
So  Firle  morsed  "O"  with  his  flash. 

From  the  dark  came  another  "O."  Firle,  hold- 
ing the  bow  of  his  boat  for  the  silhouette  of  the 
nearest  big  ship,  again  replied  with  "O." 

For  the  third  and  maybe  the  last  time  the  letter 
was  flashed— from  the  silhouette  he  was  making 
for,  as  the  lieutenant  now  saw. 

The  Muhawenet  Millie,  three  hundred  yards 
from  the  line  ship,  the  Goliath,  laid  to  port,  churned 
ahead  until  she  was  fully  amidship  of  the  big  ship — 
and  three  torpedoes  left  their  tubes  simultaneously. 

Three  blinding  flashes  flared  over  the  night; 
three  deafening  detonations,  and  the  Goliath  was 
a  thing  of  the  past. 

The  wash  of  the  troubled  waters  nearly  capsized 
the  Muhawenet  Millie.  In  the  excitement  that 
followed  she  got  away. 

Lieutenant  Firle  was  modest  about  it.  He 
thought  it  could  not  be  done  again  in  a  hurry.  I 
agreed  with  him,  as  did  others. 

July  6th. 

They  call  it  Les  Peiits  Champs  for  short.  Its 
real  name  is  Les  Petits  Champs  des  Marts.  It  is 
part  of  the  cemetery  mentioned  in  Claude  Ferrar's 
^^ UHomme  Qui  A.'fsassinat"  as  the  meeting-place  of 
Lady  Falkland  and  the  Colonel-Marquis. 

273 


FRo^r  bi<:rtjn  to  bagdad 

Tlio  imfortuniilos  solicit  no  longer  among  the 
'"J'urkisli  gia\  eslones,  however.  Bedri  Bey,  tlie  en- 
ergelie  ehief  ol"  iH)iiee  over  in  Slanihoul,  has  made 
that  ini|>ossil)le.  Now  and  tlien  a  veiled  woman 
still  flits  through  the  cemetery,  hut  tlie  Levantine 
(IcniolsclU's  who  sit  under  the  acacias  farther  up  are 
keen  rivals;  so  that,  after  all,  the  virtue  of  the 
cemetery  is  not  entirely  of  Be<lri  Bey's  making. 

It  is  Les  Petits  C/iamps  under  the  acacias,  not 
Les  Petits  Champs  des  Morts,  which  I  refer  to. 

Part  of  the  cemetery  was  converted  into  a  small 
amusement-park.  You  pay  an  entree  in  paras — 
iki  gnish — for  the  privilege  of  walking  on  the  gravel 
paths,  sitting  under  the  trees  with  a  consommation, 
and  listening  to  a  hand  that  might  be  much  better. 

That  band  has  just  murdered  a  certain  Suppe 
overture.  I  watch  the  crowd  under  the  acacias 
and  on  the  patlis  and  wonder.  Ottoman  officers, 
of  Turkish  and  German  origin,  well  uniformed  and 
carefully  groomed,  stroll  about.  They  are  from 
the  Gallipoli  and  other  fronts.  After  the  trenches, 
and  with  death  a  constant  companion,  this  place 
looks  very  good  to  them.  Their  demeanor  shows 
that  while  life  lasts  one  must  make  the  best  of  it. 

Greek,  Armenian,  Turkish,  and  Occidental  civil- 
iaiLS  are  ]>lentiful.  They  have  come  to  enjoy  the 
cool  air,  the  music,  and  the  sights.  Levantine 
families  sit  at  the  tables  with  tea  or  grenadine.  All 
are  happy.  There  is  much  laugliter,  and  conver- 
sation in  French,  Greek,  Armenian,  and  German. 
I  hear  some  Italian,  but  no  Turkish.  They  do  not 
speak  Turkish  in  IVra,  wlien  it  is  not  strictly  nec- 
essary.    Though  most  of  the  people  there  know 

274 


SOME   CURIOUS    PEOPLE   AND    ODD   EVENTS 

the  language  after  a  fashion,  Turkish  is  a  sort  of 
linguistic  sanctum  sanctorum  which  few  enter  who 
do  not  have  to. 

The  demi-mondaines  and  hadannas  mix  with  the 
crowd.  In  the  Orient  such  Httle  things  do  not 
matter  much.  Most  of  them  wear  expensive  and 
tasteful  toilettes;  all  of  them  stand  in  French  shoes. 
Somehow  the  high  heel  seems  more  at  home  in 
Constantinople  than  in  any  other  place  I  know. 

The  waiters  rush  about,  serving  the  guests,  and 
seeing  to  it  that  they  are  on  the  spot  when  a  patron 
wishes  to  light  a  cigarette.  On  the  number  of 
matches  they  scratch  for  you  depends  the  size  of 
the  pourboire.  For  some  they  carry  letters  to  some 
other  part  of  the  park. 

The  band  plays  the  last  piece — a  march  sug- 
gesting that  the  afternoon's  fun  is  over.  Soon  the 
crowd  gathers  its  hats  and  parasols  and  disgorges 
through  the  two  gates  upon  the  rue  Kabristan. 

On  the  terrace  of  the  restaurant  linger  a  few 
Ottoman  officers,  among  them  General  Merten 
Pasha.    I  take  a  walk  on  the  gravel  path  myself. 

The  pasha  intends  to  eat  in  the  garden. 

"It's  too  plagued  hot  everywhere  except  here,'* 
he  says. 

I  sit  down. 

"A  pretty  spot  indeed,"  continues  the  officer. 
"I  am  on  sick  leave.  How  did  you  like  the  March 
eighteenth  affair?  Haven't  seen  you  since  then. 
Where  have  you  been?'* 

I  explain. 

Behind  Stamboul  sets  the  sun  —  sets  in  that 
"blond"  mist  for  which  the  event  is  famous  all 

275 


FROM    BKIILIN   TO    I?A(;i)AT) 

over  \]\v  woild.  'riii-oiii^di  ()|>(Miiii^s  in  [\\c  Ivudvv 
liligroc  of  [\w  acncias  hrrak  dashes  oi"  tlic  (loldcn 
Horn — j)utclu\s  of  jmrplr  water  with  sliij)i)ing  on  it. 
A  lateen  sail  floals  i)asl.  A  ///;/.s7/  leaves  a  trail  of 
white  steam  iian^nn^'  in  the  jjfloaniing  on  llie  water. 

"Beantifnl  Slanibonl,"  says  Merten  Pusha. 

T  a,i,M-ee  with  him. 

lU'liind  the  royal  blue  silhouette  of  roofs  an<l 
mosques  stands  the  blonde  brumey  a  slieet  of  dull 
gold  through  which  the  sun  shows  like  a  disk  of 
the  richest  Indian  yellow.  The  sky  directly  above 
tlic  Golden  Horn  melts  from  the  color  of  a  liot 
sheet  of  brass  into  lighter  yellows,  delicate  greens, 
dashes  of  azure  l)hie,  and  farther  uj)  advance  the 
sentinels  of  night — deep  blues  and  purples. 

A  marvelous  picture! 

I  try  to  sec  how  many  of  Stamboul's  details 
can  be  distinguished.  There  is  still  visible  a  part 
of  Serai  Point.  Above  that  loom  the  long  walls  of 
the  Sublime  Porte,  broken  by  the  massive  body 
of  the  Aja  Sophia  and  its  four  minarets.  I  can 
make  out  the  mosque  of  Sultan  Achmed.  Its  six 
minarets  ])oint  into  the  sky  like  blue  icicles.  From 
the  sub-profile  of  the  city  comes  the  Yeni  Walideh 
moscjue.  Beyond  tliat  lies  a  group  of  public  })uild- 
ings  and  the  ]\Ia]inni<l  Paslia  mosque.  The  great 
block  over  the  Suleimanieh  is  the  Ministry  of  War. 
I  recognize  the  minarets  of  the  Shah  Sadeh  and 
Sultan  Mehmed  mosques.  Hundreds  of  other  mina- 
rets and  cupolas  stand  above  the  roofs  and  i)arapets 
of  Stamboul,  Tall  and  puri)lc  cypresses  show  \\'here 
the  cemeteries  are. 

The  whole  is  a  fairy-land. 

Si7G 


SOME   CUEIOUS    PEOPLE  AND   ODD   EVENTS 

Now  the  Golden  Horn  can  no  longer  be  observed. 
Its  far  shore  is  lost  in  the  gloaming.  The  lights  of 
the  shipping  become  visible.  The  sun  has  dropped 
from  view.  An  arc  of  dull  red  shows  where  the 
scarlet  disk  disappeared.  Above  Stamboul  float 
thin  clouds  and  mist  streamers  of  rose  and  blue. 

The  banks  of  light  far  below  us  are  the  lighted 
ports  of  the  Ottoman  men-of-war.  There  is  more 
illumination  along  the  quays  now.  The  dreamy 
twilight  is  gone,  the  electric  arcs  in  the  street  and 
the  lighted  windows  of  the  houses  usher  in  the 
night. 

It  is  still  under  the  acacias.  No  dinner  guests 
have  arrived  yet.  One  eats  late  in  Pera  in  the 
summer,  and  especially  in  Les  Petits  Champs,  so 
that  the  evening  concert  and  entertainment  may 
be  enjoyed. 

A  soft  breeze  blows.  The  waiters  in  white  aprons 
and  big  shirt-fronts  lean  against  the  balustrade  of 
the  terrace,  glad  that  there  is  a  moment's  respite. 

"Why  the  Turk  should  be  such  a  fatalist  I  am 
beginning  to  understand,"  says  Merten  Pasha. 
"After  seeing  such  a  sunset  there  is  little  more 
that  can  please.  And  still  I  would  see  it  again. 
Would  see  it  every  evening.  There  are  times  when 
I  would  prefer  being  a  beggar  in  Constantinople 
to  anything  anywhere  else." 

"The  bacillus  Constantinopolus  has  made  terrible 
inroads  in  your  case,  Excellency,"  I  remark. 

"And  in  yours.?"  he  asks. 

"Pretty  bad,  Pasha,  pretty  bad.  It  will  take  a 
powerful  antidote  to  get  it  out  of  me,  and  when  it 
is  taken  out  I  won't  like  it." 

277 


FROM   RKRUX   TO   BACDAD 

'Pile  cypri'sst's  Ix-Iow  us.  In  Les  Pciils  Champs  dcs 
Mi>rl.s\  slaiul  like  colimius  of  ;i  Iniiplc  to  eli'i-iijly 
— ji  tt'iiiplo  as  lasting'  as  tlie  peace  of  those  resiiu<^ 
around  the  roots  of  the  tree  giants.  PYom  a  minaret 
soniewliere  comes  ilie  evening  call  of  tlie  muezzin. 

Acs,  Alld/i  is  i^reat  indeed. 

J  nil/  7ih. 

Nil  it  blanche. 

I  sit  at  the  open  window.  In  tlie  tower  of  the 
Greek  churcli  across  from  me  the  hells  are  ringing 
— have  been  ringing  twice  before.  What  is  tJie 
matter.? 

The  bells  are  quiet.  From  the  interior  of  the 
church  comes  soft  singing — hymns  that  seem  wafted 
across  celestial  space.  The  voices  seem  troubled. 
They  come  in  a  plaint,  rise  a  little  in  supi>lication, 
and  then  return  to  the  i>ianissimo  in  which  the 
hymn  is  carried. 

The  muezzin  calls.  In  the  east  the  new  day 
breaks.  Over  Taxim  and  Pankaldi  rises  a  blue 
light.  The  light  lifts  the  walls  and  roofs  about  me 
from  the  darkness  of  the  canon-like  streets  below. 
On  the  gray  stone  and  stucco  the  blue  morning  light 
produces  tints  of  remarkable  softness.  Some  genius 
of  a  j>ainter  is  putting  high  lights  on  the  picture  of 
the  city  with  the  most  delicate  of  pastels.  The 
panes  in  some  windows  reflect  a  stronger  light, 
the  source  of  which  I  cannot  see. 

The  singing  continues. 

Down  rue  de  Baiiram  comes  a  herd  of  sheep, 
bleating.  The  ragged  figure  walking  ahead  is  lead- 
ing the  animals  to  the  slaughter-house. 

278 


SOME   CURIOUS    PEOPLE  AND   ODD    EVENTS 

Behind  the  sheep  comes  a  baker,  crying  his 
wares — bread  twists  which  he  carries  on  a  stick. 

"Simitchi!  Simitchil"  comes  from  his  hoarse 
throat.   ' '  Simitchi^' 

A  milkman  passes  along.  The  commodity  is 
carted  in  a  leather  bag  on  the  loins  of  a  donkey. 

In  the  church  somebody  is  now  praying.  There 
is  a  single  voice — heard  in  chant. 

But  from  the  head  of  the  rue  de  Baiiram  comes 
other  singing.  It  is  the  blind  beggar  I  have  heard 
so  often.  The  man  is  led  by  a  boy.  To  the  melody 
of  an  old  Greek  hymn  that  may  have  been  heard 
in  the  Parthenon,  for  all  I  know,  the  man  sings 
how  God  robbed  him  of  the  light  of  his  eyes  when 
he  was  still  young.  It  is  a  pathetic  story.  I  throw 
a  piaster.  The  white  face  looks  up,  while  the  boy 
fishes  the  coin  from  the  gutter. 

There  is  suffering  in  that  face — not  the  suffering 
of  material  want,  but  grief  over  the  long  night. 

The  sound  of  the  blind  man's  voice  has  been  lost 
in  the  labyrinth  of  streets  and  alleys.  Rue  de 
Baiiram  is  quiet  again. 

The  portals  of  the  Greek  church  open.  The  head 
of  a  procession  emerges  from  the  gloom  of  the  in- 
terior. A  pope,  followed  by  boys  with  white  shawls 
over  their  shoulders,  appears.  Back  of  them,  car- 
ried high  on  the  shoulders  of  four  sturdy  men  in 
black,  follows  a  coffin.  The  coffin  is  still  open.  I 
see  the  outlines  of  the  body  under  the  satin  cover- 
let, then  the  folded  hands  and  a  venerable  face 
adorned  with  a  long  white  beard. 

Wliat  an  odd  practice  to  carry  the  dead  to  the 
grave  in  the  open  coffin! 

279 


FROM   RKRTJN  TO  BAC.DAD 

Tlu"  pr«)(H>ssi()ii  <l(>s('(Mi(ls  lli<»  rwc  de  Baiiram. 
Tlic  Uu'c  ol'  I  lie  (lr.i<l  man  is  liinuHl  toward  the 
fleecy  inoniiiii;'  clouds.  Al  llie  corner  tlie  sad  train 
enters  I  he  snidi.nld.  which  is  now  floating  down  a 
slreel  from  the  'I'axim. 

I  do  not  like  lo  see  those  that  have  died  a  natural 
tleath.  1  am  more  at  home  among  the  hundreds 
and  thousands  of  dead  on  a  battle-field.  This 
dead  man  reminds  me  too  much  of  the  possibility 
of  having  to  die  in  a  slow  and  lingering  fashion, 
with  one's  face  to  the  wall  and  people  standing 
about  the  bed.  The  end  I  would  have  is  the  sudden 
and  swift  departure,  with  nobody  around  to  see 
how  I  am  standing  the  ordeal. 


IX 

A   LITTLE  TRIP  TO    "heLL"iPOLI 

TROOPS  en  masse  were  landed  by  the  Allies 
near  and  on  Gallipoli  on  April  25tli.  The 
French  landed  at  Kum  Kaleh,  held  the  beach  and 
part  of  the  village  for  over  a  day,  and  then  with- 
drew. It  has  been  said  that  this  was  a  feint. 
I  have  no  means  of  knowing  whether  it  was  or  not. 
Meanwhile  the  British  had  set  foot  ashore  at  many 
points  of  the  south  and  west  shore  of  Gallipoli — at 
Eski-Hissarlik,  Sid-il-Bahr,  Cape  Helles,  Kum 
Tepeh,  Sighin  Dereh,  Kaba  Tepeh,  and  Ariburnu. 
But  it  required  four  days  before  Sir  Ian  Hamilton 
could  look  upon  the  operation  as  a  success. 

Despite  the  effective  co-operation  of  the  Allied 
fleet,  the  landed  troops  had  great  difficulty  holding 
the  positions  above  and  on  the  beach.  The  Turkish 
infantry  fought  with  unprecedented  bravery.  But  in 
the  end  it  had  to  give  way.  It  retreated  to  better  posi- 
tions and  a  savage  position  warfare  followed.  Much 
of  this  is  described  here  in  a  non-critical  manner. 

UsuNKOPRxJ,  July  10th. 

To-day  I  discovered  what  I  am  pleased  to  call 
the  southernmost  boundary  of  the  ISauerkraut.  tTsiin- 
koprii,  in  fact,  is  a  sort  of  demographic  boundary. 

281 


FROM    HERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

F.  Swing  and  I  arc  bound  for  Gallipoli.  F.  Swing, 
having  bocn  slii|)wro(kcd  in  llie  Marmora,  decided 
to  take  tlic  land  route  lo  the  peninsula.  He  also 
decided  to  liave  nie  come  along.  I  am  such  a 
comfort,  lie  admits. 

To  Usiinkciprii  by  railroad.    Here  we  are. 

The  station-master,  an  Austrian,  was  glad  lo 
meet  us,  and  to  i)rove  that  he  was  glad  he  invited 
us  to  come  to  liis  liouse  and  have  something  to 
drink.  His  wife,  equally  glad  and  hospitable,  in- 
sisted that  we  have  a  bite  to  eat.  The  sauerkraut 
boundary  was  established  in  that  manner.  Inci- 
dentally we  hit  upon  the  northernmost  limits  of 
rose  jam  and  rose  lemonade. 

The  sauerkraut  was  accompanied  by  broiled 
chicken.  Then  we  had  a  Mehlspeise  with  rose  jam. 
After  coffee  we  had  the  rose  lemonade.  Future 
historians,  wishing  to  draw  a  line  of  demographic 
demarkation  between  the  Occident  and  Orient,  can 
take  Usiinkoprii  as  one  of  their  basic  points. 

Now  we  arc  in  a  han,  waiting  for  the  morrow, 
when  an  automobile  will  take  us  to  the  headquar- 
ters of  Field-Marshal  Liman  von  Sanders  Pasha, 
at  Yalova. 

Points  of  interest  here:  Tlie  long  bridge — 
iisiiyi  koprii — across  a  flood-level,  in  the  center  of 
which  now  runs  a  trickling  stream  of  muddy  water. 
The  bridge  was  built  by  the  Romans. 

Kasiian,  Jul//  11th. 

Si)ent  the  morning  conjugating  Turkish  verbs 
and  drinking  cofl'ee. 

The  automobile  did  not  arrive.     Instead  came 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO  "HELL'TPOLI 

a  motor-truck,  overloaded  before  we  and  our  bag- 
gage got  on  it. 

Overloading  even  a  motor-truck  is  bad.  The 
result  was  that  the  motor  balked.  Don't  know  what 
is  wrong  with  it,  being  in  that  respect  the  equal 
of  the  driver,  who  appears  totally  innocent  of 
mechanics  of  any  sort. 

From  a  neighboring  village  we  hired  two  water- 
buffalo  carts  for  our  baggage.  After  that  we  started 
on  a  weary  tramp  to  Kashan.  The  road  was  none 
too  good.  It  was  dark,  and  I  wanted  to  practise 
economy  with  my  electric  torch. 

I  am  much  in  favor  of  having  the  roads  bal- 
lasted—  have  been  a  good-roads  advocate  all 
my  life — but  I  do  hate  to  be  first  to  go  over 
the  crushed  rock.  It's  painful  and  tedious,  es- 
pecially in  hot  weather.  At  times  it  will  even 
cause  me  to  swear  like  a  trooper,  which  is  also 
bad. 

Our  march  started  at  6  p.m.  sharp.  It  was  sultry 
and  hot.  At  10  p.m.  we  saw  the  luz  of  Kashan, 
a  large  gasolene  flame  which  lights  up  the  central 
square  of  the  place. 

That  was  promising  enough.  But  I  have  never 
seen  a  light  for  such  a  distance,  nor  ever  followed 
so  delusive  a  will-o'-the-wisp.  At  11.30  p.m.,  tired 
and  disgusted,  we  got  to  the  place. 

The  Bulgars  may  be  a  gentle  people,  as  they 
claim  with  emphasis,  but  I  cannot  say  that 
they  deserved  this  title  while  they  occupied 
Kashan.  Two-thirds  of  the  houses  are  in  ruins. 
Two-thirds  of  the  population  have  gone  to  other 
parts. 

283 


FROM    BERLIN   TO    MAC  HAD 

BuLAiR,  Juhj  12th. 

LofI  K;isli;m  in  a  linck.  Four  rode  in  that  hack. 
F.  Swing;  a  yonug  'I'urkisli  lioiitoiiant,  M.  Iladi 
Boy,  7th  Coiiii).,  9th  Reg.,  2d  Division,  South 
Cirou]),  Galiipoli,  to  give  his  full  address;  Mehmed 
Murad  Bekdacli  Bey,  son  of  Ilusani,  and  now 
member  of  the  Ottoman  General  Staff,  so  reads  his 
card;  and  I. 

Our  l)aggage  follows  on  two  escort  wagons  of  the 
Ottoman  army.  F.  Swing  and  I  travel  heavy  this 
trip:  tent,  field  beds,  portable  kitchen  and  toilet 
equijuiient,  three  hundred  pounds  of  provisions, 
personal  belongings,  paper  and  carbon-sheets  and 
pencils;  maps,  field-glasses,  medicine,  bandages, 
flea  powder,  eau-de-cologne,  camera,  credentials,  and 
fairly  good  oi)inions  of  ourselves. 

These  o})inions  are  due  to  the  fact  that  we  have 
persuaded  the  Ottoman  General  Staff  to  break,  for 
our  benefit,  the  rule  it  made  after  a  certain  pseudo- 
American,  mentioned  afore,  had  emerged  as  a  full- 
fledged  British  spy.  Major  Sefid  Bey,  chief  of  the 
second  division  of  the  General  Staff  establishment 
in  Stamboul,  listened  to  reason,  but  only  because 
we  w^ere  the  petitioners. 

The  ride  was  hot  and  dusty.  Things  improved 
a  little  while  we  crossed  the  Kuru  Dagh,  an  inter- 
teresting  hill  range  along  the  Gulf  of  Saros,  covered 
with  wood-lots  and  pastures,  sown  with  villages 
and  tchijtliks. 

\Mien  we  reached  the  end  of  the  pass  road,  on 
the  very  shores  of  the  Saros,  we  noticed  a  British 
cruiser  on  patrol  off  Bulair.  It  was  after  sunset, 
or  else  we  would  have  drawn  a  few  shells.     The 

284 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO   "HELL  TPOLI 

road  is  impassable  in  daylight,  I  am  told.  The 
British  take  care  that  no  traffic  goes  over  it  so 
long  as  visibility  is  good. 

The  horses  needed  watering  and  a  rest. 

There  are  two  islands  a  little  way  out.  The 
cruiser  headed  for  them  when  its  commander  had 
satisfied  himself  that  near  Bulair  there  was  nothing 
to  attend  to.  Near  the  larger  of  the  Xeros  Islands 
was  another  craft — a  peculiar  affair.  Just  a  large 
kettle  on  a  thin  dark  line — a  submarine.  It  seemed 
to  be  greatly  attached  to  the  cruiser  and  yet  not 
on  friendly  terms  with  it.  For,  as  the  large  ship 
drew  near,  the  submarine  decided  to  take  a  plunge. 
No  doubt  it  was  a  "U." 

We  watched  the  scene  for  some  time,  expecting 
that  there  would  be  an  explosion  soon.  But  noth- 
ing happened.  So  we  turned  to  the  kaioal  player 
who  was  entertaining  his  Anatolian  brothers-in- 
arms. 

The  concert  was  made  more  elaborate  after  we 
joined  the  group.  One  of  the  men  began  to  sing 
the  song  of  the  "Warrior's  Bride,"  a  song  in  which 
the  warrior  tells  his  love  how  much  and  how  often 
he  thinks  of  her.  It  is  a  bit  of  Anatolian  folk- 
song of  considerable  charm  and  delicious  naivete. 

We  had  to  reach  Bulair  that  evening.  After  a 
cup  of  coffee  we  went  on.  How  uncomfortable  an 
overcrowded  hack  can  be!  The  legs  of  the  four 
passengers  were  interlaced,  so  to  speak.  It  was 
impossible  to  even  wiggle  one's  toes.  We  were  over- 
joyed, when  we  landed  in  the  ruins  of  Bulair,  to 
stretch  our  limbs. 

A    shelled    city    is    no    pleasant    sight    even   in 

285 


FPvOM    lU:in.I\    TO    liACDAD 

dayli^'l'l.  Al  iii^'hl  il  oflVrs  a  iiiosL  mournful 
aspect. 

The  split  and  wrecked  walls  of  Bulair  were  pcr- 
foruiinu  a  (lance  macabre  as  wc  humped  over  the 
del)ris-liltered  street.  At  the  fountain  wc  got  out 
to  lave  our  great  thirst.  We  had  seen  precious 
little  water  all  day — since  six  in  the  morning,  and 
now  it  was  eleven  at  night. 

Quite  recently  Bulair  has  been  bombarded  by 
the  Russian  armored  cruiser  Askold.  I  must  say 
that  the  Russians  nuidc  a  thorough  job  of  it.  Not 
a  house  is  undamaged.  But  firing  uj)on  a  defense- 
less town  is  quite  different  from  shelling  a  battery. 

We  were  told  that  the  Atikold  had  wrecked  the 
mausoleum  in  the  cemetery — last  resting-place  of 
Selim,  commander  in  chief  of  the  Osmanli  troops 
of  Sultan  Orchan.  The  general,  landing  upon  the 
shores  of  the  peninsula,  swore  that  he  would  never 
return  alive  to  Asia.  He  did  not.  He  and  his 
kind  were  to  stay  in  Europe.  After  giving  the 
Byzantian  empire  the  coup  de  grace,  they  overran 
the  Balkan  and  all  of  southeastern  Europe  and 
then  besieged  Vienna. 

A  shell  had  struck  the  mausoleum,  pierced  the 
two  walls,  and  then  exi)loded  without.  The  two 
sarcoi)hagi  in  the  interior  had  not  been  hurt,  save 
that  flying  rock  had  chipped  the  stucco  burial- 
casks  a  little. 

No  other  Giaurs  had  ever  been  permitted  to  enter 
the  mausoleum.  So  F.  Swing  and  I,  though  used 
to  being  the  first  in  many  i)laces,  inspected  its 
interior  in  the  ap})roi)riate  frame  of  mind  and  with 
the   aid   of   matches.      The   sarcophagi,    made   of 

286 


A   LITTLE  TRIP  TO   "HELL'IPOLI 

stucco,  as  mentioned,  are  plain  and  homely  affairs. 
Just  two  long  cases  with  a  "roof"  top,  the  head  of 
the  top  slanting  toward  the  feet. 

The  Turkish  officers  in  our  company  resented 
this  piece  of  "vandalism"  very  much.  I  cannot 
see  how  anything  but  a  wanton  lust  of  destruction 
or  the  poorest  of  marksmanship  could  have  sent 
shells  into  the  cemetery,  seeing  that  it  faces  the 
sea  and  was  in  plain  view  of  the  AsJcold. 

The  tomb  of  Kiamil  Bey,  modern  Turkey's  best- 
beloved  poet  and  writer,  had  also  been  hit  by  a 
shell.  The  kiosk  had  fallen,  and  the  iron  fence  about 
the  tomb  had  been  torn  from  the  ground. 

From  several  shell-craters  nearby  the  Turks  had 
gathered  the  remains  of  the  bodies  and  buried 
them  in  another  spot.  Such  is  war.  It  does  not 
even  permit  the  dead  to  sleep  undisturbedly. 

Yalova,  Gallipoli,  Headquarters  Liman  von 
Sanders  Pasha,  July  13th. 

Had  a  much-needed  bath,  something  to  eat,  and 
am  now  writing  to  the  sweet  melodies  of  the  biil- 
biils,  singing  in  the  pines  above  the  tent.  The 
nightingales  of  Gallipoli  will  perch  in  a  pine  and 
sing  all  night  to  heart's  content. 

Awoke  early  this  morning  on  the  pavement  of 
Bulair,  near  the  wrecked  cemetery  wall.  When  I 
am  tired  I  can  sleep  anywhere.  Friend  Swing  can- 
not. He  is  now  stretched  out  on  his  comfortable 
field-bed — in  silk  pajamas — and  is  sleeping  the 
sleep  of  the  tired  just. 

We  found  this  morning  that  our  arabadchi,  an 
Ottoman  soldier,  had  gone  over  the  hills.    Neither 

19  .  287 


FROM    IJKRLIN    I'O   IJACJDAD 

the  man  nor  llio  vcliicic  could  he  found.  Our 
soarcli  was  <j:onoraI  and  long,  and  wlien  it  was  fruit- 
ful soniothinjjj  liapponod.  One  of  the  Turkish  ofli- 
cers,  exasperated  hy  the  foolish  triek  of  tlie  man, 
first  broke  his  riding-crop  over  tlie  asker's  lieud. 
The  measure  of  punislnnent  being  not  yet  full, 
more  was  added  willi  (lie  fist.  It  was  a  most  un- 
dignified ])roceeding,  but  I  regret  to  say  it  was  not 
altogelher  undeserved.  Later  I  put  balm  on  the 
wounded  feelings  by  an  application  of  largess. 

^Nlean while  I  liad  been  reproachful  to  V.  Swing. 
I  l)lamed  him  for  many  things.  If  he  hadn't  in- 
sisted on  file  land  route  I  would  have  saved  myself 
much  trouble,  I  o]>ined.  If  he  was  afraid  of  British 
submarines,  I  was  not.  Instead  of  a  long,  hot, 
dusty,  bone-breaking,  and  muscle-wrenching  trip 
across  country,  I  coidd  luive  sailed  on  a  torpedo- 
boat  to  Akbash  in  comfort.  But  F.  Swing  is  patient 
wath  me.  Later  I  a])ologized  in  the  most  abject 
fashion.  F.  Swing  forgave  me  and  even  said  that 
he  was  a  little  to  blame. 

The  city  of  Gallipoli  had  been  shelled.  The 
hosi)ital  had  drawn  several  large  bombs,  and  so 
had  other  buildings.  There  is  no  telling  when  the 
place  will  be  under  fire  again.  We  were  warned 
against  going  into  it. 

But  I  was  dead  opposed  to  more  travel  on  dusty 
roads.  And  Swing  also  was  tired  of  it  by  now. 
The  Ottoman  officers  were  of  the  same  mind.  So 
we  hired  a  mahonic  and  set  its  lateen  sail  for 
Akbash — chief  l)ase  of  sui)plies  of  the  Ottoman 
forces  on  Gallii>oli,  and  our  destination. 

The  sail  down  the  Dardanelles  was  a  delight. 

288 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO  "HELL'TPOLI 

The  wind  favored  us,  the  sky  was  blue,  the  water 
bluer,  and  the  sun  rays  were  tempered  by  the  breeze. 
It  was  always  possible  that  an  Ally  submarine 
might  poke  her  nose  out  of  the  water — with  dire 
results  for  us.    But  nothing  of  the  sort  occurred. 

After  some  delay  we  landed  in  Akbash,  and  after 
more  delay,  on  that  malodorous  and  hot  beach, 
with  its  hundreds  of  camel-  and  buffalo-trains,  its 
thousands  of  Kurd  hamals,  and  thousands  of  tons 
of  all  sorts  of  military  supplies,  we  proceeded  by 
escort  wagon  to  headquarters. 

Major  Prigge  Bey,  chief  of  staff  of  Field-Marshal 
Liman  von  Sanders  Pasha,  gave  us  what  in  his 
frigid  manner  is  a  warm  welcome.  Later  the  pasha 
interested  himself  in  us,  selecting  personally  the 
site  for  our  tent  and  pledging  us  his  unstinted  as- 
sistance in  everything  we  might  wish  to  undertake. 

July  nth. 

I  can't  see  why  the  French  units  of  the  Allied 
fleet  should  have  decided  to  celebrate  le  quatorze 
juillet  in  so  outrageous  a  manner. 

This  is  noon.  The  sun  beats  down  on  our  camp. 
The  rosin  runs  on  pine  and  cedar  and  fills  the  air 
with  its  fine  aroma.  Across  the  little  valley  waves 
a  wheat-field  whose  grain  is  overripe.  Birds  twitter 
above  me  in  the  trees.  Butterflies  flit  about. 
There  is  no  battle  noise.  All  is  serene  and  beautiful 
— and  yet  all  is  not  well. 

F.  Swing  and  I  rose  suddenly  this  morning,  6.25 
being  the  hoin\  The  first  out  of  the  tent  and  in 
search  for  a  bomb-proof  was  F.  Swing.  I  was  a 
close  second — a  very  close  second. 

289 


FROM  BERTJN  TO   BAGDAD 

T  \V()k(>  in  lime  to  see  F.  Swing's  field  bed  col- 
lapse under  a  swiftly  rising'  fi^aire  dressed  in  silk 
pajamas.  I  lliouglil.  lliat  just  a  second  before  I 
had  heard  a  groat  noise  outside — the  explosioTi  of  a 
lar^e  shell. 

I  was  still  in  inert  surprise  when  F.  Swing  began 
to  kick  me  in  the  side  with  one  foot,  while  he  was 
sticking  the  other  into  a  shoe  which  was  made  for 
the  foot  that  was  kicking  me. 

"Get  up!  get  up!  the  camp  is  being  bombarded!" 
he  shouted. 

That  something  of  the  sort  was  going  on  I  had 
surmised  by  that  time — for,  cheeeeesherorrrrrrrr — 
tzaw — brrrrrr,  anotlier  shell  exploded  in  much  the 
same  spot.  At  almost  the  same  time  much  day- 
light cTitered  the  top  of  our  tent  near  the  head  of 
the  pole.  A  piece  of  shell  or  a  rock  had  rent  the 
canvas  generously. 

F.  Swing  fell  into  his  trousers,  snatched  up  a 
shoe,  and  then  raced  off,  down  the  slope,  across 
the  dell,  and  up  the  further  hillside.  I,  similarly 
attired,  a  few  seconds  later  raced  after  him,  sped 
l^y  a  salvo  of  four  shells. 

Fine  reception  to  get  on  our  first  day  at  Yalova. 

Still  mindful  of  the  fact  that  I  have  a  soldier's 
reputation  to  maintain,  I  had  taken  along  soap  and 
towel,  and  while  the  first  parts  of  the  shelling  were 
reeled  off  I  took  a  bath  in  the  officers'  swimming- 
j>ool  in  the  lee  of  the  liill,  where  F.  Swing  sat  dis- 
consolate under  a  cypress. 

All  things  come  to  an  end,  and  by  7.30  le  qua- 
torze  jiiillet  celebration  was  over.  No  casualties  on 
our  side,  because  the  ammunition  was  none  too 

290 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO  "HELL'TPOLI 

good.  The  fire  was  short,  moreover,  faUing  mostly 
in  a  meadow  at  the  foot  of  the  hillside  it  was  in- 
tended to  reach. 

Ali,  the  orderly  who  attends  to  our  chores  in  the 
camp,  made  a  fairly  good  breakfast  by  8.30,  so  that 
by  9.30  our  spirits  were  once  more  on  an  even  keel. 
F.  Swing's  are  inclined  to  show  a  little  list  now  and 
then,  and  my  jib  doesn't  seem  to  take  the  line  as 
well  as  it  might;  we  are  to  stay  on  the  peninsula 
for  at  least  three  weeks.  And  what  we  had  this 
morning  is  the  regular  thing  around  here,  no 
square  foot  of  the  terrain  being  safe  for  a  single 
second  in  the  day.  We  have  a  hot  program  ahead 
of  us. 

July  15th. 

There  was  no  bombardment  of  the  camp  this 
morning.  But  an  escadrille  of  fliers  appeared  thrice, 
for  breakfast,  luncheon,  and  dinner. 

It  is  the  habit  of  these  aeroplanic  bomb-distrib- 
utors to  sail  to  Akbash  three  times  in  the  day, 
so  that  the  supply  machinery  there  may  not  run 
too  smoothly  for  the  Turks.  Against  that  I  have 
no  particular  objection. 

There  being  from  eighteen  to  twenty  planes  in 
the  escadrille,  some  of  them  also  "lay  a  few  eggs" 
en  passant.  To-day  they  laid  them  three  times 
near  the  headquarters  of  the  man  who  is  responsible 
to  the  Turks  for  the  military  operations  on  Gallipoli. 

So  we  had  aerial  bombs  with  our  coffee. 

F.  Swing,  who  has  as  good  an  ear  for  aeroplanes 
and  bombardments  as  he  has  a  nose  for  news,  heard 
them  first.    I  listened.    Sure  enough.    That  hum- 

291 


FROM   liERLlN   TO   BAGDAD 

iniiii^  of  Iminhlchct's  up  in  I  lie  blue  sky  could  he 
uolliiug  if  not  the  noise  of  nii  aero  motor. 

Just  then  the  anli-airerafL  pieces  of  the  Turks 
began  to  yelj),  AVe  saw  now  that  the  "birds"  were 
right  above  us,  coming  from  Ariburnu,  and  making 
for  Akbash. 

The  shra]>nel  of  the  Turkish  anti-aircrafts  did 
not  do  any  damage.  Tlie  little  flaslies  and  fleecy 
clouds  of  i)owder  fumes  which  tJie  shrai)nel  gave 
rise  to  were  short  or  long,  high  and  low,  but  never 
close  enough  to  give  anybody  but  us  much  con- 
cern. Somewhat  familiar  with  the  operation  of 
the  law  of  gravity,  we  surmised  that  soon  we  would 
have  a  hail  of  shrapnel  balls  and  fragments  about 
our  ears. 

No  sooner  thought  than  it  hap})ened.  Ploj)p, 
plopp,  l>lopi>,  all  about  us.  Swing  stepped  under 
the  sheltering  twigs  of  a  pine,  and  from  that  mo- 
ment on  kept  tlie  tree  trunk  between  himself  and 
the  direction  of  tlie  si>ot  where  the  boml>s — fellows 
of  the  80-pound  variety — were  coming  to  earth. 

So  far  F.  Swin^  had  not  spoken.  AVhen  the 
cscadrille  reappeared  at  noon  he  was  plainly  grieved. 

"Seems  to  me,  old  top,  that  we  are  going  to  have 
some  time  around  here,"  he  said,  attacking  the 
remainder  of  his  cold  food. 

"Seems  so,"  was  my  laconic  reply. 

Between  teatime  and  supi)er  we  had  the  third 
visit.  Tliis  time  the  aviators  "laid  their  eggs" 
farther  up  the  slope,  so  that  we  did  not  have  to 
care  much.  But  as  the  shrapnel  again  rained  on  us, 
in  reality  we  were  but  little  better  off. 

During  the  day  we  interviewed  His  Excellency, 

202 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO   "HELL'TPOLI 

Liman  von  Sanders  Pasha.  He  is  of  the  opinion 
that,  given  enough  ammunition,  he  can  hold  the 
peninsula  forever. 

While  stretched  out  on  the  moss  and  needles 
under  the  pines,  F.  Swing  and  I  composed  a  poem 
to  the  "Wheat-fields  of  Gallipoli."  It  is  a  touching 
thing,  of  course.  Full  of  maudlin  sentiments  about 
the  man  who  guided  the  plow,  the  ox  who  pulled 
it,  the  woman  who  scattered  the  seed  (we  have  no 
authority  for  the  statement  that  a  woman  did  the 
sowing,  but  say  so,  anyway,  because  it  sounds  so 
much  more  poetic),  the  reaper  who  is  now  absent, 
the  sail  windmills  which  are  now  idle,  and  so  on. 
Later  we  will  add  poems  on  the  neglected  olive- 
groves  and  vineyards  to  the  collection. 

It  is  cool  under  the  pines,  and  the  rosin  sweat  is 
sweet  to  the  nostrils  and  balmy  to  the  lungs. 
We  watch  the  supply-trains  go  over  the  hills,  and 
when  tired  of  this  always  return  to  our  wheat-fields. 
The  breeze  goes  over  them  all  day  long,  causing 
the  surface  of  the  fields  to  be  agitated  in  waves, 
like  a  sea.  It  is  a  pleasant  picture,  and  still  not 
without  its  pathetic  feature.  The  people  who 
plowed  these  fields,  who  sowed  them,  and  who  hoped 
to  harvest  on  them  are  no  longer  on  the  peninsula. 
The  war  has  driven  them  to  other  parts,  where  they 
may  harvest,  but  not  reap 

The  village  of  Yalova,  not  far  from  us,  has  been 
shelled.  The  inhabitants  are  gone.  Many  of  the 
houses  are  down.  The  gardens  are  neglected.  The 
vineyards  need  the  care  of  the  vintner,  and  the 
olive-groves — well,  I  don't  know  what  they  need, 
but  they  need  something. 

^9S 


FROM    miRLIN   TO   BACOAD 

Even  tlu'  wiiulinills  Ikivo  hooii  r;i/o<l  in  many 
rases.  AVhy  so  veiuTablc  a  thing  as  ii  Ciallija)!! 
windmill  should  have  been  destroyed  I  do  not 
underslan<I,  hut  it  strikes  nie  that  they  ofTered 
sj)lendid  guidance  to  indirect  fire,  owing  to  their 
elevation.    Anyway,  most  of  them  are  gone. 

In  the  dell  tlie  hiilhiils  sing  undisturbedly.  There 
is  moonlight,  antl  this  is  the  season  when  the 
nightingale  sings  at  its  best. 

But  the  concert  can  be  enjoyed  liere  only  in 
snatches.  When  night  falls  tlie  two  battle  vol- 
canoes, at  Ariburnu  and  Sid-il-Bahr,  wake  from 
the  sleep  of  the  heat  of  the  day.  Artillery  begins 
to  boom,  mines  are  exploded,  and  hand-grenades 
are  tlirown.  The  machine-guns  begin  their  tu-tu- 
tu-tu-tu-tu-tu,  and  when  they  have  spoken  awhile 
the  small  arms  join  in  volleys  or  scattered  fire.  After 
that,  I  know,  men  attack  one  another  with  bayonet 
and  knife. 

July  IGth. 

I  nnist  admire  the  grit  of  my  friend  Swing. 

F.  Swing  confided  to  me  ;^'esterday  that  never 
before  in  liis  life  had  he  sat  on  a  horse. 

"Then  liow  do  you  propose  to  get  to  Ariburnu?" 
I  asked.  "You  can't  get  there  on  foot,  nor  on  a 
wagon,  nor  in  an  auto." 

"I  am  going  there  on  horseback,"  he  said, 
coolly  enough. 

"You  won't  if  I  have  anything  to  say  about  it," 
I  put  in.  "You  know  that  i)art  of  the  road  lies 
in  the  British  fire-zone.  Wlien  we  get  there  we'll 
have  to  ri<le  for  all  there  is  in  the  horses.     Yon 

in 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO   "HELL'TPOLI 

can't  go  there.  You'll  break  your  neck.  Stay 
here  and  I'll  go  halves  on  the  story  with  you." 

To  that  F.  Swing  would  not  listen.  Said  he 
didn't  want  to  show  himself  in  my  feathers.  He 
was  for  clean  newspaper  work — he  was! 

Thus  we  started  this  morning.  Soon  I  discovered 
that  a  correspondence  course  in  equestrianism 
woidd  never  be  a  success.  During  the  evening  I 
had  initiated  my  friend  in  some  of  the  essentials 
of  horsemanship — how  he  was  to  mount  and  dis- 
mount, how  the  reins  had  to  be  held,  how  the  boot 
had  to  be  kept  in  the  stirrup,  and  this  and  that. 

The  Turkish  officer  who  was  to  be  our  guide 
to  Ariburnu  made  big  eyes  when  he  saw  F.  Swing 
trying  to  get  in  the  saddle  from  the  wrong  side. 
Ibrahim  Bey  is  one  of  the  smartest  cavalry  officers 
in  the  entire  Ottoman  army;  being  wealthy,  he 
keeps  a  string  of  good  horses,  and  came  near  winning 
the  endurance  race  from  Vienna  to  Constantinople 
a  few  years  ago. 

I  was  mortified  when  my  friend  made  this  faux 
pas. 

Ibrahim  Bey  frowned.    I  could  not  blame  him. 

"  Monsieur  Sweng,"  he  said  in  his  choicest  French, 
"I  fear  very  much  for  your  safety.  Had  you  not 
better  remain  in  camp  and  go  to  Ariburnu  some 
other  time.''  Part  of  the  way  we  will  have  to  ride 
like  the  devil  himself.  You  will  fall  off  the  horse. 
The  British  bullets  will  hit  you.  I  cannot  be  re- 
sponsible for  you." 

But  Monsieur  Siveng  was  obdurate. 

So  we  got  him  into  the  saddle.  Ibrahim  Bey 
rode  on  Swing's  left,  I  on  his  right, 

29(> 


FROM   BERTJN   TO   BACDAD 

F,  Swiui,'  coulil  kcc]}  ill  llio  saddle  al  sl(>i>.  Trol- 
i'uVfi;  hurt  his  "iiiiuMs,"  lie  said.  Cantor  lie  could 
not.  As  t'oi-  a  sliH'Idicd  gallop,  wliy  that  was  not 
to  1)C  llioiii^lil  of. 

We  k('i)t  up  an  easy  pace  until  we  got  to  tlie 
CHMHctrry  of  Eskikoi.  What  little  trotting  and 
cantoring  we  had  <l()ne  so  far  had  Ikhmi  done  in 
order  Ihat  Ibrahim  JJey  and  I  nn'ght  get  our  hands 
in,  keeping  the  Iiai)less  man  on  horseback  in  the 
saddle. 

"AVlieii  we  get  to  the  point  where  the  road  to  the 
right  branches  off  we  will  have  to  ride  as  fast  as 
we  can,"  said  Ibrahim  Bey.  "You  hold  Monsieur 
Siveng  on  that  side,  I  on  this.  Monsieur  Sive?ig 
must  try  to  keep  his  feet  in  the  stirrups.  He  had 
better  hold  the  reins  a  little  tight  if  he  can.  Do 
you  think  you  can  remember  that.  Monsieur 
Sweng?" 

F.  Swing  thought  he  could.  I  doubted  it,  how- 
ever. 

At  the  fork  of  the  road  we  broke  into  a  full  gallop. 
Swing  ])eiween  us.  I  ha<l  part  of  his  upper  sleeve 
in  one  hau<l,  and  Ibrahim  Bey  was  doing  as  much 
on  the  other  side. 

We  were  off.  I  do  not  usually  wear  spurs,  but 
on  this  occasion  I  had  i)ut  them  on.  It  was  well 
that  I  had  done  so.  We  had  not  gone  very  far 
when  a  British  mac-liine-gun  began  to  strew  pellets 
in  the  road,  ahead  and  behind  us;  the  chew-chew- 
chew  of  the  bullets  as  they  went  past  us  was  any- 
thing but  agreeable.  I  spurr(>d  my  horse  into  a 
wild  stretch.  Ibrahim  was  doing  the  same.  Both 
of  us,   by   nu'ans  of  forceful   kicks,   kept  Swing's 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO  "HELL'IPOLI 

horse  going,  holding  on  to  the  man  for  dear  Hfe 
meanwhile. 

For  half  a  mile  we  kept  this  up.  Then  we  slowed 
down,  with  om-  burden  somewhat  out  of  breath, 
but  still  with  us,  alive  and  unhurt. 

Essad  Pasha  welcomed  us  warmly.  We  had 
lunch  with  him  and  his  stafiF — an  event  which  was 
duly  recorded  by  the  menu  decoration — an  Amer- 
ican and  Turkish  flag  entwined.  One  of  the  soldier 
scribes  at  the  Essad  headquarters  had  drawn  the 
flags  with  red  and  blue  pencils. 

The  day  was  spent  studying  the  Ariburnu  ter- 
rain. One  of  the  Turkish  officers  made  us  an  ex- 
cellent sketch  of  the  British  positions.  An  ob- 
servation station  near  the  headquarters  made  it 
possible  to  view  every  foot  of  the  position. 

It  was  hot.  Though  there  had  been  an  armistice 
some  days  ago,  so  that  some  4,000-odd  bodies 
might  be  buried,  the  field  again  was  strewn  with 
dead.  Each  little  breeze  from  the  iEgean  Sea 
brought  a  wave  of  stench  into  headquarters.  At 
times  the  odor  of  the  decomposing  bodies  was  over- 
whelming. It  was  the  first  time  that  F.  Swing  had 
smelled  anything  of  the  sort.  He  yearned  for 
eau  de  cologne,  which  he  had  forgotten,  of  course. 

In  the  afternoon  we  had  the  attention  of  three 
Allied  aviators.  They  threw  bombs  of  the  large 
variety — long  steel  cylinders  with  three  cham- 
bers, one  above  the  other  and  intercommunicating. 
The  crash  of  the  explosion  was  unpleasant,  and 
several  of  the  bombs  fell  just  a  little  too  close  to 
be  quite  comfortable. 

Essad  Pasha  proved  a  most  willing  and  delightful 

£97 


FROM   lU'.RLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

host  and  cicerone.  The  war-tried  liero  of  Junina 
explained  thinf^s  tlioroughly  and  sj)oke  of  liis  own 
work  with  iJie  grealesL  niodesly.  Like  all  good 
soldiers,  he  did  not  nnderesliniate  his  adversary, 
nor  speak  of  him  in  other  than  terms  of  respect. 

IIow  to  get  home  that  evening  was  a  problem. 
Tlie  road  w^e  had  come  was  altogether  im])ossible 
in  the  afternoon,  owing  to  more  favorable  light 
conditions  for  the  British.  We  had  to  take  a  route 
across  the  hills,  and  that  route  was  a  most  difficult 
one.  It  entailed  the  descent  of  a  steep  slope  down 
which  the  Turks  are  building  a  road  in  serpentines. 
As  luck  would  have  it,  the  worst  i)art  of  the  slope 
had  not  yet  been  overcome. 

F.  Swing  was  to  get  a  second  instalment  of  high- 
school  equestrianism. 

^Yhen  we  got  to  the  sloi)e,  Ibrahim  suggested 
that  he  go  first.  But  while  he  was  a  splendid 
horseman,  I  had  gathered  en  route  that  he  had 
never  done  much  rougli-riding.  With  much  ex- 
perience in  that  line  on  the  South  African  veldt,  I 
suggested  that  I  make  the  trail.  Swing  rode  sec- 
ond, Ibrahim  Bey  brought  up  the  rear. 

We  could  have  dismounted  and  led  our  horses 
down.  It  would  have  been  the  natural  thing  to 
do.  But  there  is  etiquette — the  etiquette  of  the 
cavalry  officer — which  I  had  to  bear  in  mind. 
Ibrahim  Bey  would  have  turned  such  a  proposal 
down,  and  I  would  liaAe  been  disappointed  had  he 
accepted  it. 

Down  we  started.  I  held  to  what  seemed  in  the 
twilight  to  be  a  goat  trail.  But  soon  I  discovered 
that   the  trail   was  covered   with   round   j)ebbles, 

298 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO   "HELL'TPOLI 

which,  lying  on  the  baked  ground  and  on  flat  rocks, 
made  it  hard  for  the  horse  to  get  a  firm  footing. 
So  I  turned  off,  when  the  ground  afforded  a  chance, 
rode  a  bit  uphill  to  gain  a  better  grade,  and  then, 
holding  to  a  ledge  running  high  above,  but  parallel 
to,  the  donga  below,  landed  safely  enough  at  the 
bottom.    My  companions  did  the  same. 

The  end  of  the  ride  proved  very  annoying.  F. 
Swing  complained  of  pains  all  over  his  anatomy, 
and  we,  anxious  to  get  home,  paid  little  attention 
to  his  woes,  though  our  speed  was  greatly  reduced 
by  the  necessity  of  having  to  bring  our  comrade 
into  camp. 

Neae  Ali  Bey  Tchiftlik,  Headquarters  of 
Weber  Pasha,  July  17th. 

F.  Swing  is  at  Yalova,  unable  to  do  more  than 
move  his  arms.  That  ride  yesterday  was  too  much 
for  him.  It  will  be  days  before  he  recovers.  But 
company  is  desirable  on  these  excursions.  I  have 
attached  to  my  person  the  Gallipoli  correspondent 
of  the  Continental  Times,  Mr.  Bleck-Schlombach. 
Attached  am  I  to  one  of  the  worst  mounts  I  have 
ever  straddled — an  Arab  stallion,  built  like  a  camel, 
with  the  strength  of  a  locomotive,  and  a  mouth 
as  hard  as  if  it  had  been  lined  with  tin. 

Ibrahim  Bey  recommended  the  beast  to  me. 
Said  it  was  the  best  horse  for  speed  and  endurance 
in  the  camp.  He  is  right.  He  should  have  stated 
also  that  it  was  the  most  unmanageable  Waler  he 
ever  knew. 

There  is  nobody  in  camp  who  likes  the  horse,  it 
seems.    The  onbashi  (corporal)  who  is  to  act  as  our 

299 


FROAI   1M<:R1-TN  to  IVVCDAD 

guide  said  so.  So  llu^  Anil)  stays  in  tlir  hoinl)- 
proof  and  l\>ods  his  lioad  oil". 

\\c  was  full  of  oals  when  I  mounted  him  this 
morning.  ^Vitll  uiain  effort  I  got  into  the  saddle. 
My  foot  was  liardly  in  tlie  off  stirrup  when  the 
son  of  the  desert  nuuk*  off  like  a  cannon-shot. 

Well,  I  let  him  have  liis  way.  We  careened 
across  the  Gallipoli  landscape  like  mad,  got  over 
the  ridge  soutli  of  Yalova,  and  tlien  raced  into  the 
valley  of  Maidos.  If  he  could  stand  it  I  could. 
We  broke  across  fields,  daslied  along  roads,  and 
cleared  ditches — one  of  them  so  wide  that  I  was 
sure  there  would  be  a  spiff.  But  the  Arab  made  it 
and  could  have  stood  another  foot  or  two  into  the 
])argain. 

INIeanwliile  my  companion  and  the  onhashi  had 
been  lost  siglit  of.  Tliere  was  time  to  spare  then, 
so  I  had  a  look  at  Maidos — Maidos  so  utterly  and 
comi)]olo]y  razed  to  the  ground  by  the  bombard- 
ment of  the  Allies. 

That  onhasJii  did  not  know  the  road  as  weff  as  he 
thought.  So  it  came  that  he  headed  w^hat  the 
British  must  have  thought  a  little  cavalry  offensive. 
I  had  my  doubts  when  he  insisted  that  the  road 
to  headquarters  ran  over  the  ridge  south  of  AH 
Bey  Tchiftlik.  But  he  said  he  had  been  there,  so, 
despite  my  conviction  that  the  mountain  on  the 
left  was  Atchi  Baba,  I  followed  him.  He  changed 
his  mind  shortl}^  afterward  when  he  saw  trenches 
before  him  and  heard  the  little  messengers  of  death 
chirp  through  the  air. 

Weber  Pasha,  commander  of  the  South  group 
and  one  of  the  members  of  the  German  military 

300 


Copyright,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood 

TURKISH    TROOPS    IN    THE    GREAT    SYRIAN    DESERT 

The  Berlin-Bagdad  Railroad  being  not  yet  in  operation.  Ottoman  troops  needed  in 
the  Mesopotamian  campaign  were  obliged  to  marrh  across  the  desert  after  having 
d-trained  near  Aleppo,  in  Syria.  No  small  feat  when  heat,  lack  of  water  and  distance 
are  considered. 


Photo,  by  Underwood  &  Underwood 


CAAIEL   MILITARY   TRAIN   IN   MAIDOS,    GALLIPOLI 

The  absence  of  a  railroad  to  the  fronts  on  the  peninsula  of  Gallipoli,  and  the  activity 
of  British  submarines  in  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  forced  the  Turks  to  transport  much  of 
their  supplies  overland,  through  Thrace  and  over  the  entire  peninsula,  by  camel   caravan. 


A   LITTLE  TRIP  TO   "HELL'IPOLI 

mission,  said  there  were  no  secrets  in  his  sectors, 
that  I  could  see  them  alL  I  could  start  that  after- 
noon, if  I  wanted  to. 

After  a  very  late  lunch  I  made  off  for  the  sector 
west  of  Krithia,  a  Captain  Westerhagen,  once  a 
banker  in  New  York,  being  my  guide. 

West  of  AH  Bey  Tchiftlik  we  reached  ground  that 
had  borne  the  full  violence  of  the  bombardments  in- 
cident to,  the  landing  of  the  Allied  troops  at  Sid- 
il-Bahr  and  Ariburnu  on  April  25tli-6th-7th.  The 
fields  and  pastures  were  plowed  up.  Crater  lay 
beside  crater  and  fragments  of  steel  strewed  the 
ground  like  stones  in  a  field. 

The  little  rest  in  the  afternoon  had  once  more  put 
fine  fettle  into  my  Arab.  He  pirouetted,  danced, 
pranced,  and  bucked  to  heart's  content. 

"Like  to  know  what  he  will  do  if  we  draw  a  shell 
or  two,"  said  Captain  Westerhagen  in  the  best 
New  York  English. 

I  had  thought  of  that,  but,  knowing  my  steed 
by  this  time,  felt  sure  that  I  could  handle  him 
under  any  conditions.  That  I  was  mistaken  was 
proven  a  little  later. 

We  entered  the  long  approach-trench,  wide  and 
deep  enough  for  wheel  traffic,  and  then  continued 
in  a  ravine  running  parallel  to  the  British  left- 
flank  trenches.  A  fight  started  as  we  rode  along. 
The  machine-gun  and  rifle  bullets  of  the  British 
went  over  our  heads,  and  most  of  the  shells  fired 
by  some  British  battery  ashore  hit  on  the  grassy 
slope  immediately  above  the  wall  of  the  ravine 
on  our  right. 

Two  places  had  to  be  taken  at  full  gallop.    They 

301 


FROM   IJEKLLN   TO  BACiDAD 

could  1)0  "stvii  iiilo"  by  llio  ]?rilisli.  l^iil,  the 
Brilisli  had  ollior  work  ou  hand  just  then  and  did 
not  bothor  willi  us. 

Tlio  hisl.  strolch  of  <iTonTid  wo  nia(k'  on  foot. 

Tlioy  woro  just  j>ryin;^f  loose  from  a  narrow  niolio 
in  the  backed  bank  of  tlie  ravine  a  Turkish  soldier 
who  liad  been  hit  by  large  pieces  of  a  liand-grenade 
which  liad  come  from  the  British  line  directly 
above  us.  His  intestines  llu'oatencd  to  come 
througli  I  he  large  rent  in  his  clothing. 

"Dangerous  i)lace  to  liave  your  headquarters  in,'* 
I  commonled  to  the  cai)tain  whose  men  were  lying 
on  the  rim  of  the  ravine. 

"It  is  dangerous,  but  the  best  ])lace  I  have  been 
able  to  find,"  said  tlie  officer.  "Do  not  stay  out- 
side.   Come  into  my  bomb-proof." 

It  wasn't  much  of  a  bomb-j)roof  he  had.  A 
mere  shack  leaning  against  the  wall  of  the  ravine 
and  protected  on  top  by  a  few  beams  holding  up 
several  feet  of  earth  in  bags. 

"We  had  coffee  and  cigarettes. 

"I  can't  reconmiend  that  you  go  on  top  now," 
said  the  officer,  when  I  suggested  doing  that.  "It's 
too  dangerous.  It  is  near  sunset,  and  then,  as  a 
rule,  the  fun  commences.  Come  back  to-morrow 
morning.     It  may  be  better  then." 

That  much  of  the  day's  work  had  been  wasted. 

Tliey  had  covered  the  body  of  the  Turkish  sol- 
dier up  with  a  bag  when  I  bade  the  captain  fare- 
well. I  learned,  however,  that  he  had  been  totally 
disemboweled. 

Such  is  life! 

We   made   our   way   back   through   the   ravine. 

302 


A   LITTLE  TRIP  TO   "HELL'TPOLI 

Half  of  the  distance  had  been  covered  when  we 
came  to  where  an  approach-trench  ran  to  the  part 
of  the  Hne  where  the  fighting  was  going  on.  Long 
hnes  of  stretcher-bearers  issued  from  the  deep  cut, 
bound  with  their  loads  of  suffering  and  anguish 
to  the  field  hospital  over  the  hill.  Three  of  the 
wounded  had  died.  The  stretcher-bearers  had 
thought  it  useless  to  carry  them  farther,  so  they 
deposited  their  burden  on  the  grass  near  the  road. 

Most  of  the  wounded  stood  the  ordeal  well,  but 
quite  a  few  moaned  and  groaned.  All  of  them 
had  the  impression  that  they  had  to  salute,  painful 
as  the  effort  might  be.    Their  merhaha  was  weak. 

In  a  recess  in  the  ravine  a  company  was  waiting 
to  relieve  a  similar  organization  from  duty  in  the 
trenches.  The  men  had  lined  up  along  the  road 
to  see  the  wounded  pass.  I  noticed  that  many  of 
the  ashers  shared  their  scant  supply  of  water  with 
the  wounded.  Encouraging  words  were  spoken. 
Well,  it  might  be  their  turn  to-morrow. 

Captain  Westerhagen  was  on  a  tour  of  inspec- 
tion, it  seemed.  He  had  to  go  to  the  Krithia 
sector.     Did  I  want  to  come  along .^^     Certainly. 

"But  it  is  very  risky,"  he  said.  "We  have  to 
pass  a  long  ridge  in  full  view  of  an  enemy  battery. 
I  draw  their  fire  every  time  I  cross.    How  about  it?" 

I  was  going,  I  said. 

From  the  main  approach-trench,  running  almost 
due  west,  runs  another  to  the  south,  toward 
Krithia.    This  one  we  took. 

"You  ride  first.  Follow  the  road!"  said  Cap- 
tain Westerhagen,  as  we  emerged  from  the  ap- 
proach-trench, which  could  not  be  continued 
20  ^^^ 


FIU)M   IJi^RLLN    TO   BAGDAD 

lliioiiuli  llio  ridi^o,  owiii^  to  Ihc  rocky  ground. 
"I'Ikmi  Mr.  Sfliloiiihacli,  I,  aiul  tlie  orderly.  Slop 
when  you  got  into  the  next  communication-trench 
al  lh(^  end  of  tlio  road." 

'I  hat  lilllo  si)urL  was  wliat  my  Arab  wanted. 
I  had  great  trouble  stoi)i)ing  his  mad  flight  when 
I  readied  the  communiealion-irench.  The  others 
arrived  soon.     Not  a  slioL  liad  fallen. 

We  ai)i>roaclied  the  British  trenches  to  within 
fifty  yards.  The  captain  ascertained  what  con- 
ditions were,  and  then,  after  a  short  inventory- 
taking  in  Krithia,  we  decided  to  return  to  head- 
ciiuirters. 

We  rode  in  the  same  order  returning  over  the 
ridge.  The  ca])tain  must  have  had  a  narrow  escape 
there.  He  never  tired  of  telling  us  liow  dangerous 
the  spot  was,  adding  that  the  Allies  had  acquired 
the  bad  habit  of  using  artillery  even  on  single  in- 
dividuals. 

I  cleared  the  communication-trench,  emerged 
ii]>on  tljc  road,  and  had  gone  about  a  hundred  yards 
in  the  open  when  the  first  shell  came.  It  exploded 
in  the  field  fifty  feet  to  my  left.  The  second  shell 
crashed  thirty  feet  ahead  of  me,  the  third  about 
a  hundred  feet  to  the  left,  the  fourth  I  merely 
heard  close  by,  and  numbers  five,  six,  seven,  and 
eight  exploded  on  more  or  less  the  same  ground 
as  the  difference  in  sound,  due  to  the  increase  of 
distance  between  myself  and  the  apex  of  the  ridge, 
told  me. 

By  this  time  my  liorse  was  frantic.  I  tried  to 
guide  him  into  the  communication-trench,  without 
the  slightest  success,  however.    I  worked  bit,  knee, 

304 


A   LITTLE  TRIP  TO   "HELL"IPOLI 

and  heel  as  hard  as  I  could.  Nothing  checked  his 
mad  phmge  across  the  crater-torn  fields.  Once  he 
fell  to  his  knees,  and  the  shock  nearly  unhorsed 
me,  but  he  was  up  again  and  broke  into  another 
mad  stretch. 

There  is  nothing  to  do  in  a  case  like  that,  pro- 
vided you  have  the  necessary  room,  but  to  let  the 
animal  tire  itself  out.  It  is  the  best  method  of 
teaching  a  horse  that  it  is  foolish  to  waste  effort 
in  that  way. 

I  had  dismounted  in  the  cypress  grove  of  Ali 
Bey  Tchiftlik  when  the  others  caught  up  with 
me.  Going  to  camp  the  Arab  was  gentle  enough 
— so  tired,  in  fact,  was  he  that  I  had  to  urge 
him  on. 

"That  British  battery  has  the  range  to  that 
ridge  down  to  a  fine  point,"  said  Weber  Pasha  at 
supper  that  evening.  "It's  funny,  though,  that 
so  far  they  have  not  killed  or  woimded  anybody 
who  has  gone  over  the  road." 

He  "knocked  wood"  as  he  said  this. 

July  18th. 

Up  at  five  this  morning,  after  a  very  active  day 
yesterday.     Could  have  slept  till  noon  easily. 

Went  back  to  the  western  sector  to  inspect  the 
Turkish  positions.  The  same  old  trenches.  No 
fighting  was  going  on.  Even  the  artillery  had  shut 
up  for  once. 

Life  in  the  trenches  would  cause  nobody  to 
leave  home  and  mother,  I  thought,  after  I  had 
made  six  kilometers  in  them,  half  of  this  in  a 
stooped  position.     The  soil  here  is  not  deep,  and, 

303 


vnnM  ]n:n\AX  to  hacdad 

\]\v  'I'lirks  Ikivo  not  yot  1k'(mi  ahic  lo  do  iniicli  willi 
lln'  luird  linu'  lliry  nvo  shiiuliny;  on. 

It  is  stifliii^I\-  liol  ill  llir  (lilcJit's.  Not  a  l)roat]i 
of  air  can  ^'cl  into  lliciii.  aiul  the  sun  boats  down 
luorcilossly.     Water  is  scarce. 

]\Iany  of  (lie  askers  were  silting  on  tlie  earth 
l)ank  they  leave  standing  to  reacli  tlie  pai-apet 
during  an  action.  Tliey  were  ]>laying  with  ])el)l)les, 
like  so  many  children.  Anytlung  to  pass  the  time, 
it  seems.  Some  were  em]^loyed  im])i'oving  their 
trenches  and  tlie  little  holes  in  which  they  rest 
and  sleep.  Others  w^ere  sewing  on  buttons  and 
])atches.  Rifles  were  being  cleaned  and  bayonets 
burnished. 

I  noticed  that  all  the  Turks  carried  large  knives 
in  the  windings  of  their  puttees.  It  seems  that 
they  prefer  the  knife  in  haml-to-hand  com})at.  In- 
variably this  knife  is  drawn  across  the  throat  of 
the  adversary,  a  fact  which  is  said  to  have  made  a 
bad  impression  on  the  British. 

Met  Lieutenant  M.  Hadi,  of  the  Ninth,  again. 
He  has  just  been  promoted  to  a  first-lieutenancy. 
He  was  happy  when  I  congi-atulated  him,  and  in- 
sisted that  I  have  coffee  with  him.  I  enjoyed  the 
aroma  of  the  coffee  more  than  its  taste.  Holding 
the  cup  close  under  my  nose,  I  was  a})le  for  a 
time  to  shut  out  the  awful  stench  floating  over  the 
field.  Between  the  two  barbed-wire  entangle- 
ments lay  several  hundred  dead  British  and  Tm-kish 
soldiers.  Eacli  night  a  few  of  them  were  being 
buried,  explained  the  lieutenant  to  me,  but  the 
difficulties  to  be  overcome  were  so  many  that  the 
work  was  slow. 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO   "HELL'TPOLI 

"You  can't  stick  your  nose  over  the  trench  and 
not  have  it  shot  off,"  he  said.  "They  go  so  far  as 
to  shoot  at  the  sliovels  we  use  in  trench-work. 
Many  of  them  have  holes  in  them." 

Walking  around  the  trenches  was  the  hardest 
sort  of  exercise.  The  "seen  into"  stretches  had 
to  be  covered  on  the  run,  with  head  and  shoulder 
well  out  of  the  way.  Men  were  constantly  passing 
back  and  forth,  necessitating  either  squeezing 
against  the  trench  wall  or  kneeling  on  the  earth 
bank  until  those  coming  in  an  opposite  direction 
had  passed. 

I  took  a  peep  over  the  parapet.  Directly  in 
front  of  me  were  "Spanish  riders,"  a  sort  of  long 
saw-horse  covered  with  barbed  wire.  Beyond  this 
line  came  the  entanglements  of  the  Turks — a  field 
of  barbed  wire  running  the  entire  length  of  the 
space  between  the  two  trench  systems,  and  from 
twenty  to  fifty  feet  wide.  Bej^ond  that  lay  a  sort 
of  "Nobody's  Land,"  then  came  the  entanglements 
of  the  Allies. 

The  grass  on  the  field  between  the  lines  was 
dead,  but  rather  thick  and  high.  The  dead  lie  in 
it  like  so  many  mole-hills,  the  khaki  of  the  British 
and  Turks  giving  this  color  impression.  I  counted 
the  number  which  lay  in  the  field  described  by 
the  legs  of  a  "Spanish  rider" — twenty-eight.  To 
make  an  estimate  of  the  total  number  of  dead  was 
dijBScult.  I  could  see  possibly  400  to  450.  A  survey 
of  some  of  the  nearest  bodies  with  my  glasses 
showed  that  they  were  in  all  stages  of  decomposi- 
tion. Most  of  them  were  bloated  to  almost  twice 
their  normal  size.     In  others  dissolution  had  gone 

307 


FROM   BERLIN    K)    la(-I)Al) 

iiiiicli  I'lirllicr,  IIk"  "Ii<>;i|>"  l)(-iii<;-  lilllc  more  lliaii 
l\\c  nnilonii  ;m<l  skcK'lon  ol*  (lie  body,  iJie  tissue 
liaviiij^  t'oiupK'Irly  <'()llai)scd. 

The  Turks  in  llie  Ireiiclies  did  nol  seem  lo  mind 
the  sig^lit.  Some  of  tlie  more  venturesome  eliar- 
aciers  go  over  I  lie  ])ara])et  at  night  to  seareh  the 
bodies  and  take  from  them  what  seems  of  vahie. 
War  loses  many  of  its  terrors  by  constant  associa- 
tion wilJi  tJiem. 

On  Atchi  Baba  there  was  an  artillery  control- 
station  which  I  wanted  to  see. 

The  way  there  was  most  tiresome.  It  led  through 
a  long  communication-trench  giving  access  during 
the  day  lo  tlie  center  and  east  of  the  terrain.  The 
roads  leading  there  can  be  used  only  at  night. 

We  must  have  been  seen  by  some  British  ar- 
tillery observer.  Long  after  we  hail  passed  the 
last  of  the  Turkish  batteries,  so  that  there  could 
be  no  question  of  the  shells  having  been  intended 
for  one  of  them,  we  were  taken  imder  a  most 
violent  fire.  Tliere  were  only  four  in  the  party. 
Why  the  British  should  have  thought  it  worth 
while  to  throw  so  much  ammunition  at  them  was 
more  than  I  can  understand. 

Two  volleys  from  a  battery  of  four  pieces  came. 
And  the  fire  was  perturbingly  accurate.  I  thanked 
my  stars  that  the  things  were  shells  and  not  shrap- 
nel. As  it  was,  the  base  of  a  shell  hit  the  edge  of 
the  trench  so  close  to  us  that  in  falling  it  landed 
between  Captain  W^esterhagen  and  the  orderly. 

When  the  storm  had  blown  over  we  proceeded, 
scaled  Atchi  Baba  in  a  very  narrow  commimication- 
trench,  into  which  the  sun  beat  with  all  its  ardor, 

308 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO  "HELL'IPOLI 

and  then,  half  exhausted,  dove  into  a  long  and 
cool  tunnel  to  reach  the  other  "face"  of  the  steep 
hill. 

Four  Ottoman  artillery  oflScers  have  their  habitat 
there.  Three  of  them  were  observing  through  as 
many  "scissors"  glasses;  the  fourth  was  in  tele- 
phonic communication  with  Weber  Pasha's  head- 
quarters. 

After  the  usual  coffee  and  cigarettes,  one  of  the 
officers  offered  to  do  a  little  shooting  for  me — with 
a  field  battery.  I  wish  to  state  that  this  is  cus- 
tomary, that  it  is  some  slight  compensation  we 
get  for  the  risks  we  run,  and  that  usually  this  sort 
of  fire  is  quite  as  harmless  as  the  fire  we  receive  in 
return. 

Seventy-five-millimeter  ammunition  is  not  ex- 
pensive, moreover.  Nowadays,  it  is  turned  out 
like  rolls  by  the  baker. 

The  battery  blazed  away  for  quite  a  while.  The 
result  of  the  fire  need  not  be  recorded.  It 
was  nil. 

July  19th. 

The  Allies  must  have  discovered  something  in 
the  deep  ravine  in  which  these  headquarters  are 
located.  Bright  and  early  this  morning  one  of  the 
Allied  ships  took  the  site  under  fire  from  Erenkoi 
Bay,  with  the  result  that  I  spent  much  of  my  time 
in  the  grotto. 

The  grotto  is  a  great  advantage  of  this  place. 

It  has  obviated  the  construction  of  bomb-proofs. 

When  the  shells  come  the  staff  repairs  to  the  large 

hole  worn  into  the  lime  rock  by  the  little  brook, 

309 


FROM    lil.RLIX  TO  BAGDAD 

Sliavan,  which  conies  from  the  hills  of  the  Bairaiuli 
DaKli. 

It  is  cool  tlicre  and  cozy.  Over  tlie  brink  of  tlie 
jj^rotto  \uiMg  the  branches  of  several  old  willows. 
Ferns  stand  on  the  moss-covered  ledges.  'J'he 
brook  comes  over  the  top  ledge  in  a  thin  trickle 
now,  bnt  there  is  enongh  water  to  feed  the  sandy- 
bottomed  ])ool.  The  place  is  good  enough,  but 
woe  to  those  in  it  if  ever  a  shell  enters. 

Had  a  nasty  ex]>erience  this  noon.  Feeling  the 
necessity  of  a  little  siesta  after  lunch,  my  col- 
league and  I  strolled  uj)  the  ravine  in  search  of  a 
place  where  peace  and  quiet  nu'ght  be  had.  We 
soon  found  what  we  were  looking  for.  A  willow-tree 
supplied  the  shade,  and  soft  white  sand  the  couch. 

I  had  fallen  asleep  in  no  time,  and  had  slept 
about  half  an  hour  when  I  was  rudely  wakened  by 
a  detonation  so  nearby  tliat  I  rose  to  my  knees 
like  a  jumping-jack.  Tlien  I  ducked  to  let  an 
avalanche  of  small  rocks  ami  earth  pass  over  me. 

When  the  cloud  of  dust  and  smoke  passed  away 
I  saw  several  horses  near  us  stagger  about.  Two 
of  them  fell  as  I  saw  them.  A  man  reeled  and  then 
shot  headlong  into  tlie  road.  Two  men  lay  i)rone. 
Six  horses  were  on  the  ground. 

What  had  hapi>ened.^  Shell,  I  thought.  But 
just  then  I  heard  above  me  the  hum  of  an  aero 
motor. 

Two  aeroplanes  stood  directly  over  us,  swinging 
about  in  circles.  There  was  no  doul)t  now  that 
the  x\llies  had  discovered  something  in  the  ravine. 
Possibly  they  knew  that  Weber  Pasha's  head- 
quarters were  in  or  near  the  grotto, 

yin 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO   "HELL"IPOLI 

Another  aero  bomb  shot  to  the  ground.  It  fell 
further  away.  Four  more  came  and  did  no  dam- 
age. The  seventh  fell  close  to  the  grotto,  and  the 
eighth  hit  a  small  wagon-park. 

The  bag:  two  men  killed,  four  wounded;  eight 
horses  killed,  three  wounded. 

The  first  bomb  had  struck  a  stable  in  which  a 
small  detachment  of  Ottoman  field-gendarmes  kept 
their  horses. 

Discussion  of  the  operations  of  the  Allies  with 
Turkish  and  German  staff-officers  leads  me  to  be- 
lieve that  the  undertaking  of  the  British  and  French 
has  the  following  objectives: 

Southern  Terrain. 

The  Allied  troops  landed  at  and  near  Sid-il-Bahr 
have  for  their  primary  task  the  taking  of  the 
Atchi  Baba  Mountain  and  adjacent  hills,  so  that 
heavy  artillery  brought  into  position  there  can 
silence  the  following  Dardanelles  coast  defense- 
works:  In  Tepeli,  Erenkoi,  Dardanos,  Anadolu, 
Hamidieh,  Tchemenlik,  and  Fort  Medjidieh  of  the 
Kilid-il-Bahr  establishment. 

The  heavy  artillery  so  stationed  would  also  keep 
the  mobile  howitzer  batteries  of  the  Turks  in 
check,  in  addition  to  facilitating  progress  of  the 
Allied  infantry  along  the  peninsula. 

Unless  the  Allied  infantry  is  able  to  reach  this 
objective  the  campaign  must  fail. 

Ariburnu  Terrain. 

The  objective  of  the  British  operations  at  Ari- 
3U 


FROA[   BERLIN  TO  BAC.DAD 

biirmi  is  in  all  nvsix^rls  similar  to  the  objective 
pursued  from  Sid-il-Balu'. 

Tho  British  troops  are  to  ^ain  possession  of  tlie 
Kodjatclu'uuMi  Daijh.  Tloavy  artillery  is  then  to 
be  stationed  on  tlie  various  crests  of  the  little  range 
to  assist  in  the  silencing  of  the  works  Anadolii 
Hamidi<'h  an<l  Tc]ienien]ik,and  lake  under  their  fire, 
as  its  main  task,  the  works  of  Kilid-il-Bahr,  Medji- 
dieli  on  the  Bay  of  Maidos,  Nagara,  and  one  or  two 
other  smaller  emplae<'ments  along  the  ]\Iaidos  Bay. 

Artillery  so  stationed  would  connnand  the  entire 
Bay  of  Maidos,  and  would  also  control  to  a  large 
extent  the  waters  north  of  that  point,  including  the 
beach  of  Akbash. 

Unless  the  Kodjatchemen  Dagh  is  taken  the 
general  plan  of  the  Allies  to  take  Constantinople 
by  forcing  the  Dardanelles  cannot  be  carried  out. 
For  a  land  operation  against  the  Ottoman  capital 
the  troops  landed  on  Gallipoli  are  not  strong  enough. 

ReSUjVIE. 

Reliable  figures  concerning  the  strength  of  the 
Allied  trooj)s  cannot  be  ol^tained.  The  force  at 
Sid-il-Bahr  is  estimated  at  110,000  British  and 
British  colored  troops,  and  70,000  French  and 
French  colonial  troops. 

The  Ariburnu  force  is  for  the  greater  number 
composed  of  Australian  and  New  Zealand  con- 
tingents, Anzacs,  estimated  at  90,000. 

Little  progress  has  been  made  by  the  Allied 
forces.  The  ground  they  hold  was  largely  gained 
during  the  first  four  days  after  disembarkation. 
But   little  heavy  and  light  field  artillery  has  been 

^512 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO  "HELL'TPOLI 

emplaced  so  far,  the  Allied  forces  depending  upon 
the  supporting  fleet  for  most  of  their  artillery  as- 
sistance. 

The  trenches  are  now  so  close  together  that  the 
fire  of  the  naval  pieces  becomes  dangerous  to  the 
Allied  infantry.  As  a  result  of  this  the  fire  superi- 
ority of  the  Allies  in  their  dreaded  heavy  calibers 
is  rapidly  decreasing.  The  Turkish  approaches  to 
the  southern  terrain  lying  mostly  in  deep  valleys 
and  ravines,  the  British  artillery,  on  land  and  sea, 
has  not  been  able  to  interfere  seriously  with  the 
supply  system  of  the  Turks.  This  is  true  in  a 
measure  of  the  Ariburnu  terrain,  with  the  difference 
that  near  the  actual  front  transporting  can  be 
carried  on  at  night  only. 

Yalova,  July  21st. 

Cabled  my  service  to-day  that  the  Allies  can 
not  carry  out  the  program  outlined  above,  for  the 
reason  that  the  Turk  is  willing  to  put  up  a  stout 
defense,  and  that  the  lack  in  supplies,  felt  so  much 
by  the  Turks,  is  discounted  by  the  terrain  difficul- 
ties the  Allies  would  have  to  overcome  before  the 
two  vital  parts  of  their  program  can  be  carried 
into  execution. 

In  a  mail  story  I  predicted  that  the  Allies,  in 
the  event  of  the  operation  extending  into  the  win- 
ter months,  would  be  obliged  to  withdraw  from 
the  peninsula. 

July  22d. 

"So  Maidos  is  down!"  cried  F.  Swing,  with  sor- 
row in  liis  voice.  "I  wonder  what  has  become  of 
the  red-headed  one?" 

313 


FROM    JUCIMJX    TO    HAC.DAD 

"Nolliiii^'  ;il  ;ill  \r([  of  Iut  slm-t,"  I  replied, 
j>yni]>at]ielic;illy.  *'Nt)  (loiil)t  t^lie  eloared  out  with 
tiieresl." 

"Have  you  lioard  thai  I  lie  i)retlicst  girl  on  the 
eulire  jx'iiiusula,  a  <leiiizenol"  yon  eily,  was  killed  by 
llu>  hond)  ol'  an  Allied  aviator?"  asked  my  friend, 
dolefully. 

"No;  that  is  news  to  nie,"  I  replied. 

"You  s(>e  I  have  not  heen  idle  while  you  were 
away.  I  have  nursed  my  poor  bones  baek  into 
shajx',  moreover." 

>\'e  tried  a  i)oem  on  that  happy  event,  but  it 
wouldn't  work. 

July  23d. 

This  is  Turkish  Independence  Day.  F.  Swing 
and  I  decided  to  celebrate  it  by  making  uj>  our 
minds  to  return  to  Pera  and  Stand )oul.  AVe  have 
found  that  the  censor  here,  Major  Prigge,  is  really 
too  busy  with  other  things  to  bother  with  the 
thousands  of  words  of  mail  coj)y  we  must  get  off — 
and  then  war  correspondents  arc  not  like  Indians. 
All  the  good  ones  are  alive. 

This  ])lace  is  really  all  right.  We  will  say  that 
nnich  for  it.  But  with  bombardments  at  any 
moment,  with  aero  bombs  for  breakfast,  lunch, 
and  dinner,  with  flies  in  clouds  so  thick  that  you 
must  drink  jour  coffee  and  eat  your  meal  under  a 
mosquito  net,  and  with  the  major  so  busy,  with 
telegra])h  tools  so  heavy,  w'ith  Lcs  Petits  Champs 
so  far  away,  and  with  Uie  rue  Baiiram  yearning  for 
us,  we  must  really  go. 

So  we  are  off  to-morrow  with  the  Maggie  Mac- 

31t 


A  LITTLE  TRIP  TO   "HELL"IPOLI 

gregor,  as  she  was  known  before  the  Turks  painted 
on  her,  in  red,  the  words,  "Giil-il-Bahr,"  which 
means  "  Rose  of  the  Sea  "  or  something  Hke  that. 

Liman  von  Sanders  Pasha  gave  us  a  farewell  in- 
terview. He  said  that  he  could  hold  Gallipoli  if  only 
Constantinople  would  give  him  more  ammunition. 

"What  I  need  is  ammunition,  ammunition,  am- 
munition, and  then  more  ammunition!"  he  said. 
The  old  fire-eater  cares  not  a  hang  for  military 
secrets. 

"I  have  no  military  secrets  here,"  he  told  me 
yesterday.  "Why,  with  aeroplanes,  and  these 
Greeks  around,  the  enemy  knows  more  about  our 
affairs  than  we  do  ourselves  at  times.  I  haven't 
even  got  enough  telephone  wire  to  go  around. 
Secrets — the  devil!  This  is  a  question  of  hard 
work  and  hard  fighting,  of  ammunition — of  ammuni- 
tion which  I  can't  get,  of  ammunition  which  I 
must  have." 

So  the  old  man  was  really  very  nice  to  us.  They 
say — everybody  says — he  is  a  grouch  of  the  worst 
type.  I  think  that  at  times  he  is.  But  who 
wouldn't  be  a  grouch  with  so  large  a  contract  on 
his  hands  and  so  little  to  do  it  with? 


SOME   OTHER  TURKISH   VIEWPOINTS 

THE  Ottoman  Empire  is  in  many  respects  an 
anachronism,  a  concrete  form  of  inconsist- 
ency— an  al)sur<l  institution.  A  minority  governs. 
]\Iinoritios  govern  badly  always. 

AVitli  tlie  races  in  tlie  empire  the  reader  is  now 
familiar.  I  liave  })ointcd  out  to  what  extent  they 
differ  in  everything  that  makes  uj)  mental  endow- 
ment. The  2'-2, 000,000  speak  four  languages  and 
each  language  has  several  dialects,  with  the  result 
that  French  is  the  medium  of  inter-racial  inter- 
course. There  can  be  no  easy  meeting  of  the  mind, 
therefore.  And  that  is  even  true  among  the  Turk- 
ish classes.  The  common  jx'ople  speak  a  form  of 
crude  Turkish,  while  the  educated  classes  have  a 
speech  of  their  own,  full  of  Persian  and  Arabic 
terms,  which  the  masses  do  not  understand. 

Karabiacii,  July  25th. 

The  Rose  of  the  Sea  would  never  sail  anywhere 
except  on  the  Dardanelles,  and  then  only  in  war- 
time. Even  her  skipy)er,  an  old  tar,  an  Arab — 
strange  combination — admits  that.  She  can  make 
eight  knots  an  hour  with  the  wind  blowing  over 

310 


SOME  OTHER  TURKISH   VIEWPOINTS 

her  stern  and  the  boilers  steam-tight.  Otherwise 
she  makes  seven — as  she  has  been  doing  all  day. 

We  are  picking  up  a  cargo  of  sheep  and  passen- 
gers. The  Rose,  etc.,  came  down  the  straits  with 
a  cargo  of  shells  and  that  sort  of  thing.  She  will 
not  be  a  ship  of  war  going  back,  so  that  F.  Swing 
will  once  more  have  a  chance  of  going  to  Rodosto, 
or  maybe  Pandemia,  in  a  rowboat. 

To  elude  the  British  submarines,  the  skipper 
intends  steaming  to  the  east  and  north  of  the  Mar- 
mora islands,  in  which  case  we  would  pull  our  row- 
boat  into  Pandemia,  should  some  British  sub- 
marine commander  take  it  into  his  head  to  wait 
for  us  on  that  route. 

F.  Swing  and  I  had  first  installed  ourselves  on 
the  lower  aft  deck.  We  retreated  from  there  be- 
cause the  Turks  and  their  wives  insisted  that  we 
eat  some  of  their  butter — the  stuff  they  call  gi 
in  India.  Can't  describe  it  any  other  way,  though 
I  might  say  that  gi  is  butter  melted  in  the  pan 
after  it  has  become  very,  very  rancid.  Then,  too, 
one  of  the  young  Turkish  ladies  had  to  nurse  her 
baby.  We  thought  that  our  presence  might  not 
promote  that  very  necessary  undertaking.  So  we 
did  what  gentlemen  will  do  under  such  circum- 
stances— we  meandered. 

Found  a  place  on  the  captain's  bridge.  The  cap- 
tain speaks  English  fairly  well,  having  at  one  time 
or  another  sailed  a  dahabiyah,  or  maybe  a  Cook's 
steamer,  on  the  Nile. 

On  the  bridge  we  also  met  several  passengers — 
the  Calliondji  family  of  Dardanelles,  nice  people 
whom   the  war  has  robbed  of  house  and  home. 

317 


FltOM    1U:HLIN    to   BACIDAl) 

Tlicy  aro  going  to  (V)iislaiiliiioj)lc  to  live  with 
some  rolalivt's.  Fallicr  is,  or  ralhor  was,  a  wine 
inerchanl  rn  (jros.  Mother  is  a  real  motherly 
jHTson,  very  i)roucl  of  her  daughters  Elena  and 
Theano. 

To  this  family  F.  Swing  and  I  seemed  big  peopl(\ 
Mr.  CalHondji  came  to  iis  and  asked  us  if  we  could 
help  him  land  in  Constanlinople,  he  having  heard 
that  the  Ottoman  government  did  not  permit  refu- 
gees to  come  to  the  cai)ital  any  more.  We  there- 
ui)on  informed  him  that  no  regulation  of  the  sort 
was  known  to  us,  but  that  it  was  not  out  of  the 
question  tluit  such  a  decision  had  been  reached 
while  we  liad  been  on  Galliixjh.  We  promised  to 
do  our  best. 

Turkey  is  indeed  a  strange  country.  Its  people 
do  not  seem  to  belong  together. 

Mr.  Calliondji  desired  that  his  daughters  and 
wife  should  have  a  better  place  for  tlie  night  than 
seemed  available  at  that  moment — any  old  part 
of  the  deck.  So  he  asked  me  to  intercede  with 
"my  friend,"  not  F.  Swing,  but  the  skipper  of  the 
Rose  of  the  Sea. 

"May  I  ask,  Mr.  Calliondji,  why  you  do  not 
ask  the  captain  yourself?"  I  inquired. 

"Well,  it  is  this  way.  I  can't  talk  English,  and 
he  can't  talk  French!" 

"What's  the  matter  with  your  Turkish?"  I 
asked. 

"I  don't  speak  Turkish,"  rephed  Mr.  Calliondji, 
in  a  matter-of-fact  tone.  ' 

"Don't  speak  Turkish,  and  you  were  born  at 
Dardanelles?" 

318 


SOME   OTHER  TURKISH   VIEWPOINTS 

"Not  at  Dardanelles,  but  at  Lapsaki,"  replied 
Mr.  Calliondji,  to  keep  the  record  straight. 

"Born  in  Turkey,  then,"  I  remarked.  "All 
right.     Come  along!" 

But  the  skipper  of  the  Rose,  etc.,  has  nothing 
but  the  chart-room  for  himself.  He  calls  it  a 
chart-room.  Chances  are  that  he  hasn't  a  single 
sheet  of  paper  aboard. 

Met  the  commandant  here  to-day.  He  gave 
us  permission  to  have  a  bath  in  the  sea  if  we  went 
far  away  from  the  town.  I  feared  at  first  that  he 
thought  we  might  pollute  the  water.  But  I  learned 
later  that  he  had  the  proprieties  of  Karabiagh  in 
mind. 

Well,  we  hadn't  forgotten  them.  To  see  that 
nothing  would  happen  to  us  the  commandant  sent 
a  policeman  along — who  sat  on  the  beach  while  F. 
Swing  and  I  gamboled  in  the  water. 

Then  a  citizen  of  Karabiagh  asked  for  the  honor 
of  having  us  as  guests  for  dinner.  We  accepted 
— as  we  always  do.  Had  pilaff,  and  shish-kebab, 
and  Turkish  sweetmeats  at  a  table.  Nobody 
offered  to  feed  us  alia  Turca.  The  ladies  of  the 
household  were  in  their  rooms  while  the  feast  was 
going  on. 

In  the  afternoon  we  walked  through  the  fields 
about  the  town.  Toward  sunset  I  introduced  F. 
Swing  to  a  new  dish — yaourt  and  cucumbers — a 
sort  of  cucumber  salad  with  sour  milk  containing 
little  bugs  that  make  you  live  long.  In  the  case 
of  Swing  the  bugs  do  not  seem  to  have  been  very 
much  on  their  job.  At  any  rate,  he  complained 
of  not  feeling  very   well   when   we   boarded   the 

21  319 


KRO.M    l?i:ni.I\   TO    lUdhAl) 

7?o.sr,  olc,  in  an  nllcinpl   lo  got  ilirough  the  sub- 
marine zoiio  a  I  iiiglii-linio, 

Tliis    is   anotlior   Sunday.     I   always   seem   to 

iravrl  on  Sundays. 

Pera,  July  SOfh. 

The  Rose  of  fhe  Sea  managed  to  crawl  to  the 
(lahila  quay  iliis  noon.  No  submarines  were  seen, 
though  once  we  crossed,  in  the  glassy  sea,  a  trail 
of  oil  that  looked  very  suspicious  to  the  Arab 
ski]>per,  wlio,  by  the  way,  lias  sworn  me  eternal 
friends! lip.  He  says  that  my  job  is  too  dangerous 
and  tliat  I  better  come  with  him  as  first  mate.  I'll 
think  it  over. 

The  passengers  were  greatly  exercised  over  the 
trail  of  oily  eyes  in  all  colors  of  the  rainbow.  F. 
Swing  was  sure  that  a  submarine  had  i)assed. 
Everybody  felt  relieved,  however,  when  they  no- 
t  iced  what  eflScient  counter-measures  the  Turks  had 
under  way — inahojiics,  each  armed  with  a  field- 
piece,  but  ostensibly  out  fishing.  A  tarpaulin  had 
been  hung  over  the  gun.  The  idea  was  to  let  a 
British  submarine  come  in  close  and  then — bang! 

It  took  a  great  deal  of  trusting  to  luck  to  get 
that  fleet  under  way.  The  thing  looks  absurd, 
but  the  sea,  and  all  that  pertains  to  it,  in  war  or 
peace,  is  not  my  bailiwick. 

The  Calliondji  family — by  the  way  they  have  rela- 
tives in  Chicago — remained  much  perturbed  all  the 
way  up.  They  finally  lamled  in  Galata  without 
the  slightest  trouble.  But  they  appreciated  very 
much  our  interest  in  their  case.  Hoped  they  would 
meet  us  again. 

820 


SOME  OTHER  TURKISH   VIEWPOINTS 

F.  Swing  and  I  took  an  araha  to  our  lodgings. 
It  wasn't  I  who  said  that  Constantinople  had  never 
looked  her  best  so  much  as  to-day.  But  I  agreed 
with  my  friend. 

July  31st. 

Well,  F.  Swing  is  gone — gone  to  complete  his 
study  of  the  Balkans.  I  miss  him  much.  There 
is  no  longer  anybody  to  get  mad  at  me,  to  scold 
and  fume  and  fret,  to  grumble  about  the  food, 
to  complain  of  the  heat,  to  make  appointments 
which  he  doesn't  keep  to  the  minute  (as  I  do  mine) , 
to  do  any  one  of  a  thousand  other  things  that  will 
try  a  fellow's  patience — and  still  I  would  take  all 
these  things  from  F.  Swing  and  love  him  more  than 
before. 

It  is  a  sad  season,  anyway.  The  sirocco  blows, 
and  when  this  south  wind,  saturated  with  the 
humidity  of  the  Mediterranean,  goes  over  the 
city  most  people  have  either  a  headache  or  feel 
at  odds  with  life. 

Meanwhile  I  continue  my  study  of  Turkey,  more 
especially  Constantinople.  The  more  I  look  into 
this  thing,  the  more  I  become  convinced  that  all 
Turkey  is  a  mesalliance.  Turk,  Greek,  Armenian, 
and  Arab  live  on  the  footing  of  cat  and  dog.  The 
strife  going  on  between  them  permits  none  to  give 
his  better  qualities  a  chance. 

Just  now  I  am  much  interested  in  the  Greek 
side  of  this  strange  life.  At  the  risk  of  being 
damned  by  the  Turks  and  Germans,  I  have  culti- 
vated relations  with  some  Greek  Perotes.  These 
people  have  a  good   many  fine  traits,  despite  all 

321 


FRO:\r   BERTJX  TO   BAGDAD 

claims  to  the  ronlrary.  It.  is  another  demonstra- 
tion of  the  fael  thai  no  race  is  wholly  bad. 

The  Calliondji  family  called  on  Swing  and  me  two 
days  after  our  an•i^'al.  F.  Swing  and  I  were  in  our 
rooms  when  the  .sounncllicr  d'ttage  announced  con- 
descendingly that  a  family,  evidently  Greeks,  were 
waiting  for  us  in  the  salon.  F.  Swing  believes  in 
being  fashionable,  so  the  callers  luid  to  wait  until 
he  had  thrown  liimself  into  his  redingote. 

They  liad  come  to  thank  us  for  our  efforts  in 
their  behalf,  said  the  Calliondjis.  We  protested 
that  while  we  were  glad  to  see  them,  we  could  under 
no  circumstances  connect  their  visit  with  anything 
we  had  done  for  them. 

Theano  w^as  the  spokeswoman.  She  speaks 
French  very  well,  while  the  otlier  members  of  the 
family  do  not. 

Even  if  we  had  not  been  able  to  assist  the  family, 
it  liad  been  our  intention  to  do  so,  and  that  was 
enough.  We  were  to  come  to  the  house  and  have 
tea. 

F.  Swq'ng  did  not  have  the  time  to  keep  this  ap- 
pointment, but  I  had.  So  to-day  I  w-ent  to  the 
rue  Gran'  Capitan,  as  they  call  the  street. 

It  was  a  pleasant  event.  Madame  Calliondji 
served  tea  and  introduced  me  to  the  youngest 
member  in  the  family — a  baby  whom  we  had  over- 
looked on  the  trip  from  Lapsaki  to  Pera.  Elena 
had  to  make  a  visit  somewhere  a  little  later.  The 
baby  grew  unruly  and  his  mother  had  to  put  him 
to  bed,  so  that  in  the  end  the  tea  was  an  affair 
))('tween  Theano  and  myself.     We  had  more  tea, 

more   pastry,    some   'J'urkish   candy   rahatloknm — 

Mi 


SOME  OTHER  TURKISH  VIEWPOINTS 

alia.s  "delight" — and  then  Theano  sprinkled  some 
eau  de  Cologne  into  my  handkerchief  so  that  wip- 
ing my  face  with  it  might  be  a  pleasant  exercise, 
as  she  said.    How  hot  Pera  can  be! 

We  chatted  about  Dardanelles.  It  appears  that 
the  little  girl  and  her  family  went  through  the 
bombardment  of  March  7th,  but  then  left  for 
Lapsaki. 

*'I  have  written  a  little  novel,"  she  said,  "also 
some  poems.  I  am  sorry  that  you  can't  read  them. 
They  are  in  Greek.  I  have  translated  three  or 
four  of  the  poems  into  French — poor  French,  I 
think,  but  would  you  care  to  see  them.^" 

I  was  astonished,  to  say  the  least.  Theano  is 
about  seventeen  years  old,  has  never  been  farther 
than  Pera  in  her  life,  and  she  had  written  a  novel ! 
The  poems  I  could  understand.  All  girls  write 
poems,  I  think. 

"I  would  like  to  see  the  poems — very  much 
so,"  I  said.  "Also  the  novel.  Though  I  may  not 
be  able  to  read  it.  I  would  like  to  see  the  book, 
anyway.  A  novel,  you  know,  is  quite  an  ambitious 
undertaking." 

Theano  left  the  room,  soon  to  return  with  two 
volumes  in  her  hand. 

The  poems  were  gentle  things  about  spring,  I 
gathered.  Even  the  translation  into  Levantine 
French  had  considerable  merit.  The  little  stanzas 
breathed  poetic  appreciation  of  the  beautiful  in 
nature.  A  clean  and  sound  sentimentality  ran 
through  the  lines.  I  read  them  aloud.  Theano 
listened  attentively  with  a  smile  on  her  face. 

"There  was  so  little  to  occupy  me  at  home  that 

323 


FROM   BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

I  thoiifjlit  I  would  pass  my  time  that  way,"  she 
said.  iiu)(l(\slly.  "1  know  those  poems  are  not  very 
good.     Si  ill  I  hoy  arc  I  ho  host  I  can  do." 

"Who  i)iibli8iiod  Ihoiii?"  I  asked. 

"Somebody  in  Dardanelles,"  smiled  the  girL 
"And  do  you  know  that  they  had  quite  a  sale.'* " 

"And  the  novel?"  I  asked,  looking  over  the 
book,  which  was  ])rinted  on  good  paper  and  in  a 
very  fine  Greek  type. 

"It  was  published  by  the  same  printer,"  re- 
plied the  girl.  "Of  course,  my  father  had  to  sub- 
sidize the  firm  for  that.  But  the  book,  contrary 
to  my  expectations,  has  sold.  This  is  a  copy  of  the 
third  edition.    You  can  buy  it  on  the  Gran'  rue." 

"And  the  subject  of  the  novel — the  argument, 
the  story,  the  plot.''" 

Theano  smiled.  "It  is  a  love-story,  of  course," 
she  replied.    "What  else  could  I  write  about?" 

"Doesn't  it  take  experience  in  love  to  write 
a  love-story?"  I  asked. 

Theano  found  the  question  very  amusing.  She 
laughed.  "It  doesn't  seem  to  take  experience," 
she  said,  lightly.    "I  have  had  none,  anyway." 

I  took  the  liberty  to  doubt  that  in  a  teasing  way. 
"In  these  parts  the  young  ladies  fall  in  love  early, 
do  they  not?"  I  questioned.  "Even  in  my  country 
they  do  so  at  your  age.  It  has  been  known  that 
school-girls  do  fall  in  love." 

"That  may  be,"  said  Theano,  earnestly.  "But 
I  haven't  been  in  love.  What  I  have  written  there 
is  merely  what  I  would  like  to  have  come  true. 
But  Ihe  things  we  want  to  have  come  true  do  not 
always  turn  out  that  way,  do  they?" 

324 


SOME   OTHER  TURKISH  VIEWPOINTS 

"Not  always,"  I  said.  "But  tell  me  what  the 
story  is — just  the  bare  outlines." 

"I  won't  do  that  now,"  said  Theano,  firmly. 
"Some  other  time;  not  to-day.  Are  you  going  back 
to  the  fighting  soon?" 

"In  a  week  or  so,"  I  replied. 

"Well,  then,  when  you  come  back  I  hope  I  shall 
see  you  again!" 

August  5th. 

There  is  a  big  fire  in  Fyndykly  to-night.  Twelve 
hundred  houses  are  down.  The  alleys  to  Galata, 
Pera,  and  Taxim  are  filled  with  the  inliabitants  of 
the  district,  trying  to  save  the  little  they  can. 
Some  of  them  have  already  gone  to  housekeeping 
for  the  night  in  doorways  and  in  the  niches  on  the 
garden  walls.    About  8,000  people  are  homeless. 

The  flames  find  the  wooden  houses  easy  prey. 
They  started  somewhere  at  the  bottom  of  the  ra- 
vine-like site.  Inside  of  an  hour  they  had  spread 
up  the  steep  slopes,  and  now  the  gulch  is  a  roaring 
furnace. 

Above  the  steady  roar  of  the  conflagration  ring 
the  blatant  tones  of  the  fire-department  horns. 
If  the  Turks  were  as  good  fire-fighters  as  they  are 
blowers  of  fire-horns,  the  fire  would  have  been 
in  hand  long  ago.  As  it  is,  there  is  nothing  to  do 
till  the  fuel  has  been  consumed — until  the  quarter 
is  a  heap  of  ashes,  cinders,  and  calcined  bones. 
Many  people  are  perishing,  it  is  said. 

The  flames  rise  heavenward  in  a  steady  sheet 

now.     There  is  but  little  smoke.     The  heat  of  the 

summer  has  taken  the  last  trace  of  moisture  out 

3«5 


FROiNI   BERLIN  TO   BACDAD 

of  the  IuiiiIht.  From  I  lie  sea  of  fire,  which  I  am 
viowiii;^'  from  I  lie  roof  of  a  lioiisc  on  I  he  (Iran'  rno 
dc  Vein,  come  sheafs  of  s]>arks  occasionally.  An- 
other house  has  collapsed. 

The  ])icture  is  a  most  fantastic  one.  Tliat  seen 
hy  Nero  cannot  excel  it  in  maj^nitude  and  gTandeur. 
The  entire  ravine  is  a  seething  furnace — in  wliite 
lieat,  red,  and  yellow. 

A  little  smoke  will  top  a  column  of  fire  now  and 
then  like  a  purple  coronet.  Vapor  rises  from  the 
boundary  of  the  fire,  which  the  fire-fi<>hters  have 
drawn  under  the  supervision  of  Gt'rman  sailors, 
who  were  sent  to  save  the  German  hosjiital,  but 
who  were  soon  in  command  of  the  affair  from  one 
end  of  the  line  to  the  other. 

The  streams  of  water  are  too  thin  to  do  much 
cliec-king.  They  rise  again  in  superheatefl  steam 
that  shows  how  hot  the  fire  really  is  and  how  im- 
potent are  the  jets  of  water  played  upon  it. 

Over  the  sea  of  flames  floats  a  red  mist  of  sparks. 
Pieces  of  highly  combustible  materials,  sizzling 
and  hissing  like  rockets,  go  through  this  mist. 
The  shores  of  the  fiery  sea  are  formed  by  the  stone 
and  brick  buildings  near  the  top  of  the  hills.  The 
walls  show  red,  like  burnished  copper,  and  the 
wimlows  glisten  like  rubies. 

From  the  streets  and  alleys  comes  the  babble 
of  a  thousand  voices.  Fires  are  not  rare  in  Con- 
stantinople. But  this  one  is  greater  than  any  in 
the  memory  of  living  man.  The  lojig  procession 
of  i)ack-animals  and  Kurd  hamals,  who  bring  into 
safety  whatever  can  be  reached,  go  through  the 
streets  like  funeral  trains. 


SOME   OTHER  TURKISH   VIEWPOINTS 

Three  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

The  fire  has  exhausted  itself.  The  supply  of 
dry  wood  is  consumed.  The  wet  walls  further  up 
stand  unseared.  I  take  my  sketches  and  come 
home. 

August  7th. 

Had  tea  with  Halideh  Hannym  to-day — over  in 
the  quiet  house  in  Stamboul,  locale  of  the  school 
which  Halideh  Hannym  maintains. 

The  direct  purpose  of  the  call  was  a  meeting 
with  the  Sheik-ul-Islam,  whom  Halideh  Hannym 
knows  very  well.  But  that  matter  was  soon  dis- 
posed of.  So  while  we  had  tea  we  spoke  of  other 
things.  We  talked  about  the  Gallipoli  campaign, 
about  my  trip  to  Arabia,  and  about  the  Armenians. 

"It's  all  too  bad!"  said  Halideh  Hannym.  "I 
wish  the  government  could  find  some  way  out  of 
the  situation.  Now  the  poor  things  are  being 
taken  to  Mesopotamia.  The  heat  and  the  hard- 
ships will  kill  many  of  them.  I  have  heard  that 
there  have  been  massacres.    I  can't  believe  it!" 

I  said  nothing  to  that.  I  was  unable  to  vouch 
for  any  of  the  many  stories  concerning  the  Ar- 
menian situation  which  I  had  heard.  And  my 
hostess  felt  the  tragedy  keenly. 

We  turned  to  other  subjects.  Halideh  Hannym 
has  introduced  the  study  of  physiology  in  her  school. 
The  colored  charts  of  anatomy  on  the  wall  caused 
me  to  speak  of  that  subject. 

"I  am  trying  to  make  the  course  of  study  as 
thoroughgoing  as  1  can,"  said  Halideh  Hannym. 
"But  it  is  hard  work.    Sometimes  I  grow  discour- 

327 


rR():\I    JUTvlJN   TO   liAC.DAD 

ai^ol.  Tlion  I  take  a  run  io  PrInci|)o,  to  see  my 
lH)y,()r  Io  Siillan 're])oh,  io  visit  my  father,  and  llien 
I  feel  again  etjiial  Io  llie  si  niggle. 

"The  amouiil  of  work  that  must  be  done  be- 
fore we  ean  gel  I  lie  edueation  of  tlie  masses  here 
under  way  eannol  be  aj)])re(ialed  by  you.  We 
are  hampered  even  by  our  language.  It  is  so  full 
of  Persian  and  Arabian  terms  thai  liave  no  mean- 
ing io  the  eonnnon  ]>eoj)le.  And  then  ihe  system 
of  letters  we  use,  and  the  abuses  of  this  calligrapliy, 
add  io  our  troubles.  Wliat  do  you  expeet  from  a 
medium  of  instruction  tliat  requires  almost  six 
years'  study  and  practice  before  you  can  write  it?" 

I  consoled  the  good  woman  as  best  I  could. 

Slie  had  written  a  new  book — another  novel. 
It  dealt  with  the  problems  of  tlie  New  Turkey — 
it  spoke  of  a  love  that  was  subordinated  to  duty. 

Ilalideh  Hannym  was  not  in  her  hap])iest  mood, 
I  could  see.  Her  face  had  a  drawn  look.  Her 
eyes  were  tired.     She  needed  a  rest. 

I  suggested  a  trip  to  Principo  and  its  pines  and 
cypresses. 

"Yes,  I  will  go  there  soon.  I  must  see  my  boy. 
What  would  I  do  without  liim?  It  is  he  who  keeps 
me  going.  Often  I  think:  What  is  the  use  of  all 
this.^  I  would  go  to  a  place  where  the  problems 
of  ray  race  could  not  reach  me,  where  all  the  world 
would  be  dumb,  where  only  the  trees  and  flowers 
could  speak  io  me." 

Poor  Ilalideh  Ilannym!  As  I  looked  at  Stam- 
boul  bej'ond  the  trees  in  the  garden,  and  saw  the 
lai tired  windows  and  shahni shins,  the  proud  mosque 
cupolas,  the  minarets,   and  the  bland  fagades  of 


SOME  OTHER  TURKISH  VIEWPOINTS 

the  public  buildings,  behind  which  sat  the  most 
incompetent  class  of  public  servants  one  can  find, 
I  realized  that  Halideh  Edib  Hannym  had  set 
herself  a  large  task. 

The  shahnishin  would  have  to  go  before  the 
Turkish  public  could  gain  an  Occidental  view  of 
life.  Those  cupolas  would  have  to  listen  to  a  shorter 
QuaWaan  before  the  heavy  hand  of  fatalism  could 
be  taken  off  Turkish  throats,  and  the  calls  of  the 
muezzin  from  the  minarets  would  have  to  be  lim- 
ited to  three  before  the  faithful  would  have  time 
enough  to  compete  with  their  co-citizens  of  giaour 
beliefs. 

Competent  men  would  have  to  take  charge  of 
public  affairs — not  the  competent  agents  of  foreign 
governments  and  coupon-clippers,  but  competent 
Ottoman  officials — men  who  would  look  upon  their 
office  not  as  the  birthright  of  a  conqueror  race, 
but  as  a  trust  given  them  by  a  public  needing 
and  deserving  their  best  efforts — all  that  was  in 
them. 

"When  you  come  back  I  shall  be  at  Sultan 
Tepeh,"  said  Halideh  Hannym,  as  we  parted. 
"My  father  will  be  glad  to  meet  you.  Don't 
forget  to  come  soon!" 

August  9th. 

Again  the  muezzin  called  from  the  gallery  of  the 
Ministry  of  War,  and  again  the  last  notes  of  his 
call  were  swallowed  by  the  crashing  intonation  of 
a  military  march. 

"I  am  always  glad  to  see  you,"  said  Enver 
Pasha.     The  landing  of  the  Allies  in  Suvla  Bay 

329 


FROAf   liERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

(Iocs  not  dislurh  mc — docs  not  disturb  any  of  the 
men  wlio  assist  nic. 

"Already  we  liave  the  situation  in  hand.  Though 
tlie  Allies  threw  some  12(),()()()  men  in  there,  and 
we  had  but  a  battalion  on  the  site  at  that  moment, 
we  are  now  again  masters  of  tlie  situation. 

"I  am  confident  that  we  will  be  able  to  hold 
them.  No  new  military  problem  has  been  added 
to  our  burden.  It  is  a  question  of  more  men. 
We  have  the  men.  I  liave  200,000  men  to  spare 
even  to-daj',  after  taking  care  of  the  Anafarta 
developments.     I  am  not  disturbed. 

"It  would  have  been  different  had  the  Allies 
landed  at  some  other  point. 

"No,  I  can't  name  that.  But  you  know  the 
map.  As  it  is,  we  have  nothing  to  fear — will 
never  have  anything  to  fear  from  what  the  Allies 
may  do  on  Gallipoli  or  at  the  Dardanelles.  In  the 
end  we  will  defeat  them. 

"  It  is  too  much  line  of  communication  for  them. 
The  climate  does  not  favor  them.  Our  men  are 
holding  their  own,  though  defending  their  ground 
with  their  naked  breasts.  We  must  hold  out. 
We  must  prevent  the  Allies  from  getting  to  Con- 
stantinople. It  would  be  our  end  if  they  did. 
We  must  prevent  that  end.    We  must  win!" 

Thus  spoke  Enver  Pasha,  Ottoman  Minister  of 
War,  and  Vice-Generalissimo  of  the  Ottoman  army. 
His  handsome  young  face — he  is  thirty-six — was 
tense  with  fervor.  His  brown  eyes  snapped.  His 
well-shaped  lips  were  firm.  His  torso  was  erect, 
his  fist  had  come  down  on  the  toj)  of  his  desk. 

I  survej'cd  this  enthusiast,  and  wondered  how 


SOME   OTHER  TURKISH   VIEWPOINTS 

his  responsible  ofBce  and  his  great  youth  could  be 
reconciled.  I  knew  how  he  had  come  to  that 
office.  But  the  mere  facts  gave  no  index  to  the 
man's  character,  to  the  great  strength  of  will  he 
had  shown — a  will  that  would  send  any  man  to 
swing  from  a  tripod  in  the  morning  if  he  dared 
question  it. 

"My  work  has  not  been  easy,"  said  Enver  Pasha. 
"At  times  it  has  come  near  overwhelming  me. 
But  somehow  I  always  seem  to  keep  up  with  the 
many  demands  made  upon  me  by  the  office. 

"I  live  very  temperately;  that  may  be  what 
saves  me.  I  do  not  lose  time  in  worrying,  nor  am 
I  long  in  making  a  decision.  I  have  found  that 
the  first  judgment  one  arrives  at  is  the  best.  To 
consider  a  thing  too  long  means  procrastination. 
You  become  tired  of  the  subject  in  the  end;  you 
neglect  it,  and  it  is  never  done. 

"I  try  to  do  to-day  what  I  would  have  to  do 
to-morrow.  Once  I  dismissed  —  cashiered  —  five 
thousand  officers  in  that  manner — a  question  of 
only  a  few  minutes'  thought. 

"That  step  has  made  the  Ottoman  army  what 
it  is  to-day.  I  have  not  the  slightest  use  for  the 
incompetent,  the  unfit,  the  weak,  the  hesitating, 
the  evaders,  the  shirkers,  the  pleasure-seekers.  I 
am  obliged  to  thrust  them  out  of  my  way,  and  so 
far,  I  am  glad  to  say,  I  have  not  lacked  the  courage 
to  do  that. 

"That  is  the  only  policy  which  will  again  make 
of  Turkey,  of  the  Ottoman  Empire,  what  it  ought 
to  be.  We  must  show  those  who  hate  us  that  we 
do  not  fear  them.    We  must  show  those  who  think 

331 


FRO:\I    BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

little  of  us  tliat  wo  do  not  care  a  rap  for  t.lieir 
opinions.  Wo  must  show  tlie  loaders  in  the  West 
that  we  are  their  eqiuds — in  war  as  in  peace. 

"How  can  we  do  that  unless  we  select  a  road 
ujwn  wliicli  we  may  travel,  and  then  stick  to  that 
road,  no  matter  how  long  and  dusty  it  may  be? 
'^Purkoy  in  order  to  remain  Turkey  must  work, 
must  improve  itself,  and  right  now  it  must  fight, 
with  the  naked  breast  and  a  rock  in  the  hand, 
as  our  men  are  doing  on  Gallipoli." 

An  ambitious  program,  I  thought.  Could  it  be 
carried  out?  Tliat  I  doubted.  Were  the  Turks 
somewhere  by  themselves  the  chances  would  be 
better.  For  such  an  undertaking  there  is  only 
one  basis — ^government  by  the  consent  of  the  gov- 
erned.  The  Ottoman  Empire  has  anything  but  that. 

I  asked  Enver  Pasha  some  questions  concerning 
the  Armenian  situation.  He  showed  no  enthusiasm. 
He  was  doing  his  best  to  settle  that  affair.  Just 
what  he  meant  by  his  best  I  did  not  learn. 

I  left  him  with  permission  to  go  again  to  Gallipoli. 

The  Armenians  are  going  through  hell  again. 
I  have  heard  that  some  have  been  burned  alive 
— at  the  stake.  Massacres  are  said  to  continue; 
deportations  are  going  on  as  before,  despite  all 
efforts  made  by  neutral  diplomatists  to  put  an 
end  to  that  shocking  phase  of  barbarity.  So  long 
as  the  Armenians  are  in  a  town,  life  at  least  is  se- 
cure. It  is  out  in  the  open,  in  the  waste  places, 
that  the  worst  comes  to  pass. 

I  understand  that  thousands  have  perished  while 
being  taken  from  one  i>laco  to  another.  How  they 
perish  I  have  not  heard,  but  I  can  imagine  it — 

332 


SOME  OTHER  TURKISH   VIEWPOINTS 

lack  of   food   and   shelter,   hardship,   exhaustion, 
disease,  and  massacre. 

Several  attempts  I  have  made  to  get  out  a  story 
on  the  Armenian  outrages  have  failed,  of  course. 
My  efforts  to  do  my  duty  have  prejudiced  the  Turk- 
ish censors  against  me.  Finally,  I  tried  to  get  the 
German  embassy  to  forward  my  copy  to  Berlin 
by  means  of  its  diplomatic  courier.  No  such  luck, 
of  course.  There  were  regrets  that  my  request 
could  not  be  considered.  To  forward  my  despatches 
would  be  a  violation  of  diplomatic  privilege.  I 
suppose  that  is  one  way  of  putting  it.  Meanwhile, 
the  story  gets  out  anyway. 

August  16th. 

It  is  Ramasan — the  month  of  fasting  during 
the  daylight  hours;  the  month  of  feasting  at  night. 

Through  the  acacias  of  Les  Petits  Champs  peep 
the  lighted  minarets — the  wreaths  of  little  lamps 
on  the  gallery  whence  the  muezzin's  voice  is  heard. 
The  day  has  been  hot.  From  the  gravel  at  my 
feet  rises  the  heat  that  has  been  stored  there, 
despite  the  shade  of  the  acacias,  under  whose 
green  roof  I  am  a  steady  guest.  The  Golden  Horn 
lies  in  purple  drowsiness.  The  war-ships  on  it  show 
their  familiar  banks  of  lighted  port-holes. 

I  watch  Les  Petits  Champs  des  Morts  as  I  eat  my 
supper.  It  is  a  restful  place,  restful  not  only  to 
those  who  lie  at  the  roots  of  the  cypresses,  but 
restful  also  to  those  who  view  it  in  the  proper 
spirit.  The  gravestones  have  the  appearance  of 
steles  of  dull  silver  in  the  faint  moonlight.  The 
grass  reminds  me  of  a  carpet  done  in  olive  green 

333 


FROM  bi:rmn    to  BACDAI) 

and  Roman  uniluT.  Cyi>rossrs  and  j^ravcsloncs 
and  thrir  sluulows  are  ilio  lilting  pattern  in  this 
/rt;)/.s-  funcbre — black  and  silver. 

Throuf,di  llie  comet ery,  along  one  of  the  steep 
paths,  comes  a  figure  in  black — one  of  L.'idy  Falk- 
land's rivals.  The  "man  who  was  killed"  appears, 
and  then  the  two  go  over  the  path  the  woman  had 
come.    A  common  meeting  in  an  uncommon  i)lace. 

ISIore  guests  come.  Soon  the  serene  stillness  of 
the  garden  is  l)roken  by  the  clatter  of  dishes,  the 
tinkle  of  glass,  and  the  ringing  of  silverware. 
The  conversation  grows  louder.  Corks  begin  to 
l)oj).  The  ])ouring  of  the  wine  is  heard.  The 
smell  of  tasty  dishes  floals  over  the  terrace.  There 
are  laughter  and  jest.  What  does  it  matter  that 
the  enemy  is  at  the  door  and  knocking  in  a  manner 
that  may  not  be  misunderstood? 

The  concert  begins.    I  stay  a  little  longer. 

A  German  artiste  in  a  green  dress  sings  a  medi- 
ocre song  with  a  worse  voice,  lacking  even  the  rudi- 
ments of  a  training.  Poor  thing!  They  applaud, 
for  all  that.  I  applaud.  She  has  done  her  best 
for  the  fifteen  francs  she  gets  per  day. 

A  dancer  appears.  She  is  an  Armenian.  Every 
movement  is  grace,  every  gesture  art,  every  look 
in  her  eyes  temptation.  It  may  be  that  five  was  an 
Annenian.  I  don't  know.  At  any  rate,  we  all 
applaud. 

Chansonettes.  The  singer  is  a  Greek,  a  slim 
Levantine  with  a  reputation  that  reaches  from 
here  to  Persia  and  back.  Her  French  is  not  the 
best  I  have  heard,  but  there  is  no  difficulty  in 
understanding  what  she  means.     Right  now  the 

334 


SOME  OTHER  TURKISH  VIEWPOINTS 

lady  is  the  "friend"  of  a  pasha.  That  accounts 
for  her  marvelous  costume  and  the  diamonds — 
the  two  items  which  have  placed  her  so  well  along 
on  the  program. 

A  Rumanian  dancer  appears.  Her  chief  attrac- 
tion is  her  odalisque  beauty.  An  Ottoman  sur- 
geon of  Jewish  race  shot  himself  because  he  lost 
her  to  a  German  aviator — a  surgeon,  of  all  people, 
committing  suicide  for  a  woman! 

An  Austrian  ballad-singer  is  next  on  the  program. 
She  is  one  of  the  still  waters  that  run  deep.  De- 
murely she  steps  to  the  front,  bows,  watches  the 
orchestra  leader,  and  then  sings.  Her  songs  are 
not  bad,  but  in  Les  Petits  Champs  they  would 
have  never  given  her  that  place  on  the  program 
were  it  not  that  a  certain  secretary  of  the  K.k. 
Ostreichisch-Ungarisch  embassy  had  insisted  on  her 
getting  a  good  position  on  the  list. 

An  Egyptian  dancer — a  real  one.  She  dresses 
the  part  and  dances  it.  Rameses  would  have 
added  her  to  his  staff  of  artistes.  But  Rameses 
is  dead,  and  so  we  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  how 
they  danced  in  ancient  Egypt.  A  rich  Armenian 
pays  her  dress  bills  and  flowers. 

The  next  number  on  the  program  is  a  Spanish 
dance.  The  daughter  of  Castile  breaks  from  the 
wings  in  all  the  glory  of  her  many  flouncy  petti- 
coats, in  all  the  splendor  of  her  gorgeous  shawl, 
with  all  the  coquetry  of  her  face. 

She  dances  as  only  the  Spanish  can  dance. 
Toward  the  end  of  the  first  part  she  is  joined  by 
her  companion,  a  young,  dusky  Spaniard  in  a 
bull-fighter's  costume. 

22  ^'"^^ 


FHOM    UI:RM\   to    I5AC;1)A1) 

Tlio  cjistaiu'ls  now  clallcr  in  douhio  liine.  Tlie 
♦  laiu'ors  swiiijj:  l)ack  and  forth  in  a  ViXiAy  fandango. 
Tlio  pictniv  is  lUMrccl.  Tlu'  gnosis  in  llio  garden  go 
wild.  The  sulvos  of  chipj)ing  hands  do  not  seem 
to  come  to  an  end.  Tlie  dancer  takes  tlie  man  by 
the  liand  and  h>ads  liim  to  the  foothglits.  Some, 
no  doubt,  tliink  that  she  is  his  wife  or  mistress — 
but  I  know  better.  There  never  was  such  love 
as  this  girl  liolds  for  a  certain  German  count. 
And  if  you  must  know  how  I  know,  I  will  say  that 
she  told  me.  She  says  that  I  am  almost  a  com- 
patriot of  hers,  even  if  my  Spanish  is  not  above 
rei>roach. 

As  I  go  out  of  the  garden  the  castanets  are  busy 
again.  I  turn  aroun<I,  catch  a  glim])se  of  irides- 
cent black  beads  on  black  satin,  of  the  reddest  of 
red  shawls;  catch  the  grace  of  the  dancers;  and 
then  pass  on. 

The  night  is  hot.  The  windows  are  open.  The 
night  noise  of  Pera  is  unique  in  its  way. 

The  rap  of  the  iron-shod  night  stick  of  the 
watchman  comes  from  the  pavement  like  a  note 
from  a  xylophone.  In  the  distance  sound  the 
horns  of  the  fire-fighters. 

'' Siinilchi!  Simitchi!"  comes  the  hoarse  voice 
of  the  bread-twist  vender. 

"  Dondurma!  Dondurma  vanillyr  shouts  the  ice- 
cream man. 

''Sisde  ne  turlu  dondurma  wardyr?'*  ("Have  you 
no  other  kind  of  ice-cream?")  asks  the  voice  of  a 
woman  from  across  the  narrow  street. 

''Vanilly  yalynisr  ("Only  vanilla!")  replies  the 
man. 

886 


SOME  OTHER  TURKISH  VIEWPOINTS 

The  woman  doesn't  want  vanilla. 

In  Les  Petits  Champs  the  entertainment  goes  on. 
By  this  time  the  artistes,  who  have  appeared,  are 
sitting  with  the  guests,  drinking  champagne,  not 
because  they  Hke  it  so  much,  but  because  it  is 
expected  of  them.  The  management  gives  them 
five  francs  a  bottle  commission. 

In  the  morning  I  attend  the  execution,  by  strangu- 
lation, on  a  tripod  gallows,  of  some  soldiers  who 
turned  upon  their  officers.  Two  of  them  I  saw  at 
Akbash.  They  were  trussed  up  in  rope  like  bales 
of  rags. 

On  that  occasion  I  almost  made  a  fool  of  myself. 
One  of  the  prisoners  had  said  something  to  the 
onbashi  (corporal)  which  that  personage  did  not 
like.  The  prisoner  was  standing  on  his  feet  at  the 
time.  A  mighty  blow  over  the  heart,  delivered  by 
the  ham-fisted  corporal,  felled  him. 

It  was  the  sort  of  blow  that  makes  prize-fighters 
"groggy."  Being  tied  hand  and  foot,  elbow  and 
knee,  the  man  fell  hard.  But  that  did  not  appease 
the  brutal  non-com. 

He  began  to  kick  the  man  on  the  ground  with 
his  heavy  munition-boots — in  the  chest,  abdomen, 
and  head. 

Before  long  the  prostrate  man's  face  became 
blue.  He  began  to  gasp;  he  seemed  to  breathe 
with  the  greatest  difficulty.  Suddenly  a  stream 
of  blood  gushed  from  mouth  and  nostrils. 

That  was  a  little  too  much  for  me.  I  began  to 
shout  at  tlie  corporal.  To  my  own  surprise,  the 
man  stopped  kicking  the  prisoner  and  walked  away. 

Some  soldiers  then  occupied  themselves  with  the 

337 


FROM   BERLIN  TO   BAGDAD 

poor  wreicli,  Whoii  lie  liad  been  brought  into  a 
sitting  |>osilion  tJie  flow  of  blood  ceased.  Some- 
body handed  the  man  a  drink  of  water,  and  as  an 
evidence  of  the  remarkable  stamina  of  the  Ana- 
tolian Turk,  for  such  the  prisoner  is,  he  seemed  in 
fairly  good  shape  shortly  afterward. 

I  took  the  trouble  to  bring  the  case  to  the  atten- 
tion of  the  commandant,  and  he  took  the  trouble 
to  inform  me  that  it  was  none  of  my  business.  I 
agi-eed  with  him  on  that  score,  but  made  a  few 
remarks  anent  the  brutality  and  the  like  which 
caused  me  to  be  ordered  out  of  the  presence  of 
this  mighty  Osmanli. 

AVhat  could  the  ^Vrmenians  expect  from  such  a 
brute  of  an  officer? 


XI 

THE   INFERNO   OF   SUVLA   BAY 

ON  August  6th  Sir  Ian  Hamilton  landed  in 
Suvla  Bay,  and  at  Ariburnu,  his  second  ex- 
peditionary corps,  consisting  in  part  of  the  first 
Kitchener  army. 

Developments  on  Gallipoli  had  shown  that  the 
forces  landed  in  April  and  the  constant  stream  of 
reinforcements  they  required  could  not  accomplish 
anything.  A  little  terrain  had  been  gained  at  the 
two  fronts,  but  that  did  not  in  any  way  better  the 
position  of  the  Allied  troops. 

There  was  one  great  obstacle  that  could  not  be 
overcome.  The  Allied  forces  depended  to  a  large 
extent  upon  the  guns  of  their  supporting  ships. 
For  direct  fire  upon  the  Turkish  trenches,  so  long 
as  these  lay  some  distance  from  the  Allies'  trenches, 
the  naval  artillery  was  well  suited.  There  was  no 
danger  in  that  event  of  shelhng  one's  own  men. 

But  conditions  changed,  as  the  Turks,  fully 
aware  of  the  factors  involved,  sapped  themselves 
closer  to  the  trenches  of  their  enemies.  As  soon 
as  the  two  lines  were  but  a  hundred  feet  or  so 
apart,  the  British  naval  gunners  ran  the  risk  of 
sending  shells  into  their  own  infantry's  lines. 

339 


FROM   JiERIJN   TO   IJAGDAD 

The  (lock  of  oven  a  moored  sliip  is  not  llio  best 
base  from  wliicli  to  lire.  TJic  /Egeaii  Sea  is  never 
quiet.  These  circumstances  and  the  necessity  of 
keoj)iug  the  slii])s  moviTiy,to  tlnvart  tlie  effort  of  sub- 
marines lliat  miglit  be  near,  Iiampered  the  British 
shij)  gunners  very  much,  as  I  have  often  observed. 

If  direct  artiHery  fire  sufTered  from  these  handi- 
ca|)s,  indirect  Hre  was  still  worse.  The  British 
infantry  had  advanced  everywhere  as  far  as  the 
toj>ographical  crests  visible  from  the  sea.  Up  to 
that  point  it  could  still  coimt  upon  the  support 
of  the  Allied  fleet.  But  to  go  beyond  it  meant  doing 
witliout  that  su Import,  if  not  entirely,  then  at  least 
to  a  great  extent. 

Thus  it  came  that  even  in  June  the  British  and 
French  had  advanced  as  far  as  it  was  safe.  There 
was  higher  ground  in  front  of  them,  but  that  was 
being  stubbornly  defended  by  the  Turks.  Then, 
too,  before  any  of  tliis  high  ground  could  be  taken 
considerable  areas  of  terrain,  below  the  topograph- 
ical crests  visible  from  the  sea,  had  to  be  wrested 
from  the  Turks. 

In  tlic  oflensive  of  the  last  week  of  June  the 
British  at  Sid-il-Balu'  tried  very  hard  to  take  this 
higher  ground.  On  their  left  flank  they  succeeded 
in  a  measure.  At  other  points,  near  the  center, 
they  failed,  however.  The  heavy  sacrifices  made 
were  in  vain.  Part  of  the  British  line  was  pushed 
into  ground  that  could  not  be  shelled  directly  from 
the  sea.  The  Turks  had  little  to  fear  in  the  position 
they  now  occupied.  A  counter  offensive  was  or- 
dered by  Liman  Pasha  and  the  British  had  to  fall 
back  upon  their  old  trenches. 

340 


THE  INFERNO  OF  SUVLA  BAY 

These  were  the  reasons  why  Sir  Ian  Hamilton 
brought  a  second  expeditionary  force  to  the  pen- 
insula. 

By  the  middle  of  August  it  was  clear,  however, 
that  the  British  in  Suvla  Bay  were  in  exactly  the 
position  of  the  troops  at  Ariburnu  and  Sid-il-Bahr. 
The  efforts  of  General  Stopford  to  gain  the  crests 
of  the  Kodjatchemen  Dagh  were  promising  enough 
for  a  few  days.  Ultimately  they  failed  for  the 
reasons  indicated.  The  campaign  became  a  stale- 
mate. The  troops  began  to  suffer  more  and  more 
from  disease,  and  supply  problems  multiplied  as 
the  number  of  German  submarines  grew  larger. 
The  lack  of  drinking-water  was  always  a  serious 
matter.  It  was  decided,  therefore,  to  withdraw 
the  Allied  troops  from  Gallipoli.  Suvla  Bay  and 
Ariburnu  were  first  evacuated,  in  December,  and 
Sid-il-Bahr  was  abandoned  in  January. 

What  the  conditions  at  Suvla  Bay  were  is  shown 
by  some  of  my  entries: 

RoDOSTO,  August  19th. 

I  am  en  route  for  Akbash  and  the  Anafartas.  Just 
now  I  am  on  land.  The  Turkish  torpedo-boat  on 
which  I  am  a  passenger  is  part  of  a  flotilla  of  armed 
vessels  that  convoys  a  supply-fleet  of  the  Turks 
to  Akbash.  We  cannot  travel  during  the  day,  be- 
cause there  are  four  British  submarines  in  the 
Marmora. 

The  commandant  of  Rodosto  had  to  be  called 
upon  as  a  matter  of  courtesy.  We  began  to  speak 
of  the  British  submarines. 

"Those  things  are  a  pest,"  he  said.     "Getting 

341 


FROM    HERLIX   TO   HACDAD 

cheekier  every  day.  Wliy,  early  lliis  morning,  just 
bt'fort'  \our  convoy  came  in,  one  of  tlieni  was 
lying  otl'sliore  liere,  sunning  itself.  The  boat  was 
out  of  range  of  my  battery.  Fired  a  shot  to  scare 
lier  crew.  But  they  wouldn't  scare,  those  fellows. 
I  wonder  how  you  managed  to  get  through." 

I  explained  that  we  had  barely  managed. 

We  were  going  down  the  west  shore  of  the  Mar- 
mora last  night  when  it  happened.  The  four 
steamers  going  to  Akbash  with  su])plies  were  keep- 
ing well  in  shore,  so  that  they  might  need  no  pro- 
tection on  their  starboard  sides.  A  Turkish  de- 
stroyer was  heading  the  procession,  while  my 
torpedo-boat  was  first  on  the  flank;  then  followed 
another  torpedo-boat.  The  rear  was  brought  i:p 
by  some  sort  of  an  ancient  ironclad. 

All  went  well  until  about  ten  o'clock.  The  sea 
lay  still  in  the  moonlight.  I  was  sitting  aft  on  a 
deck-chair,  tired,  finally,  of  the  many  forward 
spirals  we  had  cut  into  the  glassy  surface.  The 
torpedo-boat's  direct  task  was  to  keep  the  flank 
of  the  convoy  protected  by  scouting  in  circles  and 
keeping  uj)  with  the  transports  at  the  same  time — 
sort  of  loo}>ing  manner  of  progress.  It  was  tire- 
some to  see  land  now  on  this,  now  on  that,  side; 
to  see  the  moon  now'  on  port,  now  forward,  then 
on  starboard,  and  finally  aft,  and  then  to  do  it  all 
over  again. 

All  had  gone  well  so  far.  Suddenly  the  report 
of  a  gun  came  from  near  the  head  of  the  convoy. 
Excitement  followed  immediately.  Other  shots 
followed.  More  commotion.  The  convoy  went 
farther  inshore.    Tlie  sul)marine  got  out  of  the  way 


THE  INFERNO  OF  SUVLA  BAY 

of  the  destroyer  and  my  torpedo-boat — and  just 
then  the  foremost  of  the  transports  grounded  on  a 
rock.     More  excitement,  more  trouble. 

We  all  helped  to  tow  the  3,000-tonner  off — and 
about  twelve  o'clock  we  succeeded. 

Yalova,  August  SOth. 

We  left  Rodosto,  and  arrived  at  Akbash  without 
further  submarine  incident.  But  we  reached  Ak- 
bash just  as  the  Allied  air  escadrille  was  coming  over 
the  bluff.  They  saw  us  coming  and  saved  a  few  of 
their  bombs  for  our  decks.  But  the  decks  are  small 
and  the  strait  is  wide.    The  bombs  did  no  damage. 

But  Akbash  looked  different.  When  I  left  it 
last  there  was  a  single  wreck  in  the  shallow  water 
along  the  beach — an  old  mahonie.  Now  four  fairly 
large  steamers  show  their  hulls  in  the  little  cove. 
Two  of  them  are  locatable  by  the  top  trucks  of  their 
masts.  The  third  is  submerged  to  the  roof  of  the 
deck-house,  and  the  fourth  sits  on  the  beach  on  a 
slant  that  keeps  her  bow  high  and  dry,  and  her 
stern  under  the  water. 

There  was  much  activity  at  the  base.  The  new 
troops  in  the  peninsula  have  increased  the  traffic 
by  forty  per  cent.,  and  the  Allied  submarines  and 
aviators  and  the  Allied  indirect  fire  have  augmented 
the  proportions  of  the  task.  So  the  Turkish  major 
in  charge  is  not  in  the  best  humor.  He  was  barely 
civil. 

Through  the  heat  and  dust  to  Yalova. 

August  23d. 

Just  back  from  a  trip  to    the    Kodjatchemen 

343 


FROM   BERT>IN  TO  BAGDAD 

Dagli,  wlu^re  I  spend  the  day  in  an  artillery  oh- 
servation-slation  fifty  feet  underground.  The  Al- 
lied artillery  causes  little  streams  of  soil  to  trickle 
through  the  beani-and-board  ceihng  of  the  station, 
hut  heyouil  that  we  had  no  untoward  experience. 

l?uf  I  had  one  this  morning  that  is  worth  re- 
cording. 

AVe  left  lieadquarters  at  seven  o'clock  in  charge 
of  the  German  military  attaclie  at  Constantinople, 
Colonel  von  Lassow,  who  in  his  turn  was  in  charge, 
so  to  speak,  of  a  Turkish  onhasJii  (corporal)  who 
had  sworn  that  he  knew  the  route  that  would  take 
us  past  Biiyiik  Anafarta,  and  then  to  the  Kod- 
jatchemen  Dagh — a  mountain  which  the  British 
would  like  to  have  in  their  hands. 

There  was  no  trouble  until  we  got  to  the  ceme- 
tery of  Biiyiik  Anafarta.  We  had  cleared  two 
short  exposed  stretches  of  the  road  at  a  gallop. 
No  shells.  But  instead  of  turning  to  the  left  be- 
hind a  ridge  which  seemed  the  limit  of  the  safety 
zone  to  me,  the  Turkish  corporal  went  right  ahead. 
Again  we  came  into  view  of  the  British  ships — full 
view,  this  time — and  zow — brrrrrrrrrrrr — plopp- 
plopi)-plopp-plopp ! 

A  large  crater  lay  twenty  feet  ahead  of  us,  when 
the  smoke  and  dust  cleared.  It  was  a  narrow  shave, 
indeed.  I  thought  my  hair  had  been  singed.  But 
it  wasn't.  But  there  is  a  canary-colored  tint  on 
my  face  and  hands  that  will  stay  there  for  some 
time  to  come. 

After  that  the  corporal  admitted  that  he  was 
not  so  much  of  a  pathfinder  as  he  had  thought  he 
was.     Well,  we  forgave  him.     It  is  easy  to  forgive 

344 


THE   INFERNO  OF  SUVLA  BAY 

anything  when  you  have  just  stepped  back  from 
the  very  gate  of  eternity. 

A  study  of  the  Suvla  Bay  proved  most  uninter- 
esting. The  British  he  along  the  base  of  the  hill 
range.  They  had  the  crest  of  the  Djonk  Bahir  in 
their  hands  until  August  7th,  when  Colonel  Kan- 
nengieser  drove  them  off. 

The  purpose  of  the  landing  is  the  same  as  that 
of  the  operations  at  Ariburnu;  to-day,  in  fact, 
Suvla  Bay  and  Ariburnu  are  a  single  front. 

Above  Turchunkoi,  August  25th. 

Ariburnu  being  what  it  was  when  I  was  here  be- 
fore, and  with  the  Kodjatchemen  Dagh  visited  and 
the  Anafarta  sectors  viewed,  I  thought  I  would 
have  a  peep  at  things  in  the  Kizlar  Dagh,  especially 
the  famous  Kiretch  Tepeh. 

Willmers  Bey  is  the  commander  here.  He  is 
unusually  courteous — a  German  cavalry  officer  of 
breeding  and  means. 

Getting  here  was  no  mean  undertaking.  First 
the  dusty  valley  from  Yalova  to  Kum  Koi  and 
Turchunkoi,  and  then  the  hot  ascent  of  the  Kaval 
Tepeh.  But  we  accomplished  all  of  this  in  a  day 
and  landed  here  dusty,  dirty,  and  dry. 

I  wanted  to  see  the  Kiretch  Tepeh.  Willmers 
Bey  thought  that  it  would  be  best  to  do  it  at 
night.  The  approach  was  still  exposed  in  part,  he 
said,  and  the  Allied  torpedo-boats  and  destroyers 
in  the  ^gean  Sea  kept  the  shore  under  fire  all  day 
long. 

Well,  night  did  seem  the  best  time! 

Despite  the  heavy  traveling  done  during  the  day, 

345 


FROM    ni:HI,IN   TO   HAGDAD 

I  (loc'idod  lo  <j;<)  lo  \\\c  Kirolch  Tepoh  that  very 
iii^hl.     Al   ('K'V(Mi  we  slart(^(I. 

Il  was  fright  fully  liot  aiul  sultry.  Not  a  breath 
of  air  stirred.  We  entered  the  long  commiinieation- 
trencli  which  takes  one  over  j)art  of  the  exposed 
field,  Tlie  dileh  was  like  an  oven.  All  day  long 
the  hot  sun  had  beaten  into  it.  Now  it  was  radi- 
ating its  store  of  heat.  The  persi>iration  began  to 
tun  in  streams. 

Down,  down,  dow'n!  Tlie  Kaval  Tepeh  is  fairly 
high.  Before  long  I  was  under  the  impression  that 
we  had  gone  below  the  level  of  the  ^gean  Sea. 
A  glimj^se  of  the  w^ater  showed,  however,  that 
we  were  still  far  above  it. 

Suvla  Bay  came  into  view.  It  was  lighted  up 
like  a  big  i>ort  by  some  forty  men-of-war  and 
transports.  The  banks  of  lighted  port-holes,  the 
lights  on  deck  and  in  the  masts,  the  lights  on  the 
moving  tenders  and  the  smaller  craft  on  patrol 
about  the  herd,  gave  one  the  impression  that  a 
large  harbor  lay  before  one's  eyes  instead  of  the 
once  lonesome  waters  of  Suvla  Bay. 

And  it  seemed  to  be  fete-day  in  this  port.  A 
score  of  projectors  was  busy.  The  search-lights 
lighted  up  the  slopes  of  the  vast  amphitheater  back 
of  Suvla  Bay.  For  a  while  they  would  hold  on  a 
certain  point,  and  then  would  move  on  to  some 
other  part,  stop,  and  then  move  on  again. 

We  watched  the  spectacle  for  quite  a  while. 
Then  the  arc-carbons  in  the  projectors,  one  by  one, 
turned  red  and  ceased  to  glow. 

Turkish  supply  details  were  passed.  Many  of  the 
men  carried  large  coi)per  kettles  in  and  out  of  the 

34G 


THE   INFERNO  OF  SUVLA  BAY 

trenches.  The  men  in  the  advance  positions  were 
getting  their  rations  of  cooked  food. 

Soon  I  was  to  wonder  how  the  men  in  front  could 
eat  food  of  any  sort. 

We  had  reached  the  Kiretch  Tepeh.  On  its 
eastern  slope,  and  on  the  little  plateau  below,  had 
occurred  the  stiff  fighting  of  August  13th.  The 
dead  had  been  buried  where  they  fell,  so  that  now 
we  stood  among  the  large  company  graves  in  which 
"Anzac"  and  Ottoman  had  been  laid  to  rest,  re- 
gardless of  race  and  creed. 

The  nature  of  the  ground  made  good  burial  im- 
possible. The  hard  limerock  does  not  yield  to 
pick  and  spade.  The  Turks  had  dug  down  as  deep 
as  they  could,  had  heaped  the  bodies  in  the  shallow 
trough,  and  then  covered  them  up  as  best  as  they 
could. 

Through  the  thin  layer  of  earth  and  rock  en- 
veloping the  bodies  welled  a  stench  that  was  the 
worst  I  had  ever  experienced.  The  night  being 
sultry  and  hot,  with  not  a  breath  of  wind  stirring, 
did  not  help  matters. 

To  get  to  the  top  of  the  Kiretch  Tepeh  and  view 
the  advance  position  of  the  British,  known  to  the 
Turks  as  the  "Green  Hill,"  we  had  to  get  across 
the  plateau.  I  tried  to  wrap  my  organs  of  smell  in 
a  thick  cloud  of  cigarette  smoke.  But  nothing 
could  overcome  that  odor — nothing  could  combat 
its  fearful  density  and  penetration. 

It  was  dark  now — not  the  dark  of  a  black  night, 
but  the  uncertain  light  that  comes  from  dense 
ground  vapors  and  a  moon  standing  behind  clouds. 
We  could  not  use  the  electric  torch,  because  that 

347 


FROM  BERTJN   TO   BAGDAD 

W(Mild  liavo  drawn  fire— wo  were  only  150  \'ar(ls  from 
tlio  Ihilisli  lino.  As  a  rosnlt  a  sohlior  who  accom- 
paniod  ns  stuck  ono  of  his  foot  into  a  gravo.  We 
Iiad  to  ])iill  him  out. 

Wo  scalod  tho  Kirolch  Tepeli  on  all-fours.  Tho 
Turks  were  busy  putting  tlioir  tronchos  in  order. 
It  was  hard  work  on  this  ground.  The  soil  is  no- 
whore  more  than  six  inches  deep,  and  what  little 
there  is  liad  to  be  carefully  scraped  togetlier  for 
the  sandbagging  that  was  to  form  the  parapet  of 
the  shallow  ditch. 

"Green  Hill"  lay  quiet. 

Over  against  the  slopes  of  the  Kodjatchemen 
Dagh  an  outpost  fight  developed.  Rifles  were  used 
first,  then  hand-grenades.  One  of  the  Allied  ships 
on  the  bay  fired  a  few  shots  at  a  point  we  could 
not  see — indirect  map  fire  at  some  Turkish  line 
of  communication,  I  thought. 

At  two  in  the  morning  we  made  our  way  back 
to  the  top  of  Kaval  Topeh,  site  of  the  Willmors  head- 
quarters. I  turned  in  with  a  violent  headache, 
due  to  the  combination  of  heat  and  stench. 

This  morning  at  six  reveille.  Willmers  Bey 
wanted  to  inspect  parts  of  his  sector  and  invited 
me  to  come  along. 

Again  tlirough  the  long  communication-trencii, 
with  every  bone  in  the  body  still  aching  from  last 
night's  exertions. 

Til  is  time  we  drew  fire  from  the  iEgean — fifteen 
shells  of  15-cms. 

Well,  nothing  happened. 

After  that  we  took  a  bath  in  the  ^gean  under 
the  very  noses  of  the  British.     We  left  the  little 

348 


THE   INFERNO  OF  SUVLA   BAY 

cove  quick  enough  when  a  torpedo-boat  came 
around  the  point  and  began  to  use  a  machine-gun 
on  the  water. 

I  am  sorry  for  the  poor  devils  who  have  to  fight 
in  that  hell  hole  behind  Suvla  Bay,  be  they  Turks 
or  "Anzacs." 

Off  Lapsaki,  on  the  Dardanelles,  August  29th. 

I  am  the  baggageless  guest  of  Admiral  Souchon, 
head  of  the  Ottoman  navy.  That  I  am  so  quickly 
returning  to  Constantinople  is  the  result  of  a  tele- 
gram I  received,  saying  that  imjwrtant  orders 
awaited  me  at  the  American  embassy.  That  I 
have  no  baggage  is  another  story. 

When  the  wire  came  I  made  up  my  mind  that 
the  quickest  way  back  to  Pera  would  be  by  means 
of  a  torpedo-boat  lying  off  Dardanelles.  I  didn't 
know  it  was  the  flag-ship  of  the  admiral.  But  the 
admiral  has  an  American  wife  and  consequently 
is  friendly  toward  all  Americans. 

"Why,  certainly!  Come  along!"  he  said,  in  that 
whole-hearted  manner  of  his.    "Glad  to  have  you!" 

The  torpedo-boat  left  Dardanelles  at  5  p.m. 
sharp.  Twenty  minutes  later  we  were  in  Kilia 
Bay,  taking  aboard  a  sick  oflScer — no  less  a  person 
than  Lieutenant  Wellman  of  the  Emden,  who 
has  been  trying  hard  to  throw  an  effective  anti- 
submarine barrage  across  the  strait  near  Cape 
Nagara. 

Ten  minutes  later  we  were  in  the  vortex  of  as 
hot  a  bombardment  of  Akbash  as  that  much-tried 
place  had  ever  seen.  The  fire  of  the  British  men- 
of-war  over  in  the  ^Egean  was  indirect — and  high. 

349 


FROM    1U;1{1,IN    'I'O    liA(;i)Al) 

Most  t)f  tlu'  slu'Us  laiidod  in  llie  slraiL  wc  had  to 
i^o  llirongh, 

Wo  liuggcd  Ihc  Anatolian  shore  as  closely  as  we 
dared,  received  tlie  full  inipaet  of  a  waterspout 
Ihrown  uj)  hy  one  of  the  slu>lls,  and  llien  with  every 
ounce  of  steain  on  cleared  the  danger  zone.  Akbash 
was  still  under  fire  when  the  sun  liad  set. 

"A  narrow  squeak,"  connnented  the  admiral  while 
we  had  supper  in  the  dingy,  hot,  and  stulTy  cabin. 
"But  we  are  all  used  to  them  now.  It  is  a  rare 
privilege  to  see  another  sunrise  nowadays." 

For  the  time  being  we  were  safe  enough.  Lieu- 
tenant Gerdts,  another  of  the  Emden  officers,  was 
on  the  bridge,  and  we  were  making  speed  of  the 
sort  that  leaves  little  to  do  for  the  submarines. 

AVellman  was  having  nmch  trouble  with  that 
submarine  barrage,  he  said.  Didn't  have  material 
enough  nor  material  of  the  right  sort.  He  had 
fumed  and  fretted  under  his  handicaps  until  the 
fever  had  found  him  in  a  receptive  state. 

After  supper  we  went  on  deck  again.  The 
breeze  stood  in  the  north  and  brought  down  a 
little  of  Russia's  temperate  climate,  so  much  of  it 
that  by  midnight  the  admiral  urged  one  of  his 
coats  upon  the  baggageless  passenger. 

At  two  this  morning  something  happened — the 
steering-gear  of  the  torpedo-boat  failed.  For  two 
hours  thereafter  we  lay  on  the  water  motionless 
and  the  ready  prey  for  any  submarine  that  might 
come  along. 

Admiral  Souchon  grew  Impatient,  and  after  that 

repairs  proceeded  at  a  better  pace. 

In  Pera  with  the  first  light  of  dawn. 
y50 


XII 

CONCLUSION 

THOUGH  the  Ottoman  Empire  is  an  agricultural 
state  and  a  good  producer  of  wheat,  corn,  and 
other  cereals,  want,  and  then  famine,  made  their 
appearance  when  the  country  had  been  at  war 
about  six  months. 

The  food  shortage  hit  Constantinople  first.  Al- 
ready in  May  the  price  of  food  began  to  soar.  In 
July  the  first  bread-lines  were  seen  in  the  city, 
and  in  October  great  numbers  of  the  poor  had  to 
go  without  wheat  bread  entirely. 

For  a  state  which  had  in  the  past  depended  upon 
agriculture  almost  wholly  that  was  a  remarkable 
condition  of  affairs. 

The  fact  is  that  there  was  a  great  deal  of  wheat 
in  the  interior  of  Anatolia  and  Syria.  But  it  could 
not  be  moved.  Hundreds  of  thousands  of  tons  of 
breadstuffs  rotted  on  the  farms  for  lack  of  proper 
storage. 

The  Anatolian  and  Syrian  farmers  had  in  the 
past  disposed  of  their  cereal  crops  quickly.  The 
crop  was  harvested  and  within  a  few  weeks  the 
grain  was  sold  and  shipped.  The  question  of 
proj>er  storage  had  never  troubled  them  and  so 
23  351 


FROM    IJKHMX   TO    BACOAD 

tliey  wore  uol  ahlo  lo  inoel  iliis  cuior^ency.  Tlic 
Aiialoliaii  and  JiagdacI  railroads  wore  no  better 
prei)ared  for  tlie  situation.  They  and  their  feed- 
in.ij:  lines  were  given  over  hirgely  to  niihtary  trans- 
ports. 

Tliese  systems  are  single-tracked  throughout, 
and  there  is  notliing  (juile  so  unsatisfactory  as  a 
line  of  that  sort  when  overburdened  with  tratfic. 
The  Ottoman  forces  in  the  Caucasus,  in  the  Suez 
Desert,  an<l  in  INIesopotauiia  needed  all  the  ton- 
nage the  railroads  could  haul.  The  fact  that  there 
were  still  two  breaks  in  the  Bagdad  Railroad  did 
not  improve  conditions. 

Much  of  the  grain  raised  in  Anatolia  and  Syria 
had  in  the  past  been  shipped  to  Constantinople  by 
water.  Syria  ex])orted  through  the  ports  of  Beirut, 
Alexandi-ette,  INlersina,  and  Smyrna.  To  the  latter 
also  nnich  of  the  breadstuff s  produced  in  southern 
Anatolia  were  taken  by  the  feeding  lines  of  the 
Anatolian  and  Bagdad  railroads. 

This  could  no  longer  be  done.  The  British  and 
French  ships  in  the  Mediterranean  were  blockading 
the  Ottoman  coast  in  a  most  effective  manner, 
and  at  the  Dardanelles  the  barrier  of  steel  of  the 
Allied  fleet  w^as  insurmountable. 

The  Turks  had  also  maintained  a  lively  w^heat 
traffic  on  the  Black  Sea.  Much  of  the  grain  pro- 
duced in  central  and  northern  Anatolia  had  in  the 
past  gone  to  Constantinople;  from  the  ports  along 
the  Black  Sea  shore.  The  Russian  fleet  made  that 
imi)Ossible  now. 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  Constantinople  de- 
pended entirely  upon  western  Anatolia  for  its  sup- 

352 


CONCLUSION 

ply  of  bread  and  other  foods.  Western  Anatolia 
might  have  taken  care  of  the  needs  of  the  capital 
had  there  been  transportation.  But  that  was  not 
the  case.  As  I  have  already  stated,  the  railroads 
were  overloaded  with  military  traflSc,  and,  while 
the  rails  could  have  carried  more,  there  was  not 
enough  rolling  stock. 

The  Constantinople  population  ate  up  what  had 
been  produced  in  Thrace  and  around  the  Sea  of 
Marmora,  and  then  began  to  fast. 

Another  factor  made  itself  felt.  Turkey  had 
entered  the  war  in  November  and  had  mobilized 
on  a  grand  scale.  Most  of  the  able-bodied  men 
were  taken  from  the  farms  at  a  time  when  they 
should  have  plowed  and  sown.  As  elsewhere,  the 
women  tried  to  meet  this  condition.  But  they 
were  not  equal  to  it. 

With  the  shortage  of  food  came  the  food-shark. 
The  toll  he  exacted  was  crushing.  The  government 
increased  taxes  until  the  population  groaned  under 
the  load.  Though  the  German  government  saw 
to  it  that  the  Ottoman  government  could  raise 
loans  in  Berlin,  the  men  in  the  ministries  of  Stam- 
boul  were  still  obliged  to  find  a  great  deal  of  money 
at  home. 

I  must  attest  that  the  loans  and  taxes  taken  up 
by  the  Turkish  government  for  war  purposes  went 
far — farther,  perhaps,  than  money  has  gone  in 
any  other  country  during  the  war.  Enver  Pasha 
was  the  man  to  have  any  war  profiteer,  who  leached 
upon  the  government,  taken  out  and  hung  with- 
out ado  of  any  sort — without  a  trial,  if  he  was  satis- 
fied  that    the  man   had   stolen    one  of    the  few 

353 


FROM   BERTJN  TO  BAGDAD 

lirres  iurqurs  juaihihU'  for  the  work  he  so  arduously 
j>rosc('ulc(l. 

Hut  Turkey  has  long  been  a  poor  country.  The 
besl  of  its  soiu'ces  of  revenue  have  been  hy|>othe- 
cated  for  years  to  the  international  management 
of  the  public  debt  institute.  The  income  from  a 
great  deal  of  direct  and  indirect  taxation  had  in 
the  past  been  turned  over  to  the  dette  publique, 
witliout  so  much  as  a  percentage  to  the  Ottoman 
government  finding  its  way  back  again  in  Turkish 
public  cliannels. 

That  this  was  so  was  largely  the  fault  of  the 
Abdul  Hamidan  regime.  Abdul  Hamid  and  his 
personally  conducted  government  had  the  knack 
of  spending  money  lavishly  without  asking  where 
it  came  from.  So  long  as  even  the  slightest  pros- 
pect of  posterity  could  be  taxed  the  former  Sultan 
was  the  man  to  do  it.  The  rate  of  interest  being 
good,  Abdul  Hamid  could  always  count  on  the  co- 
operation of  the  crowd  of  international  Shylocks 
that  was  interested  in  Turkey. 

The  Young  Turk  party  undertook  the  revolution 
for  the  purpose  of  improving  upon  this  state  of 
affairs.  In  1908  Abdul  Hamid  and  his  specious 
crowd  of  adherents  were  disposed  of  in  a  rather 
bloodless  revolution,  and  with  the  coming  to  the 
throne  of  his  brother,  Mohammed  Rechad  Khan  V, 
in  April,  1909,  a  better  era  seemed  to  dawn  for 
Turkey. 

But  the  promising  dawn  did  not  last  long.  Be- 
fore long  violent  squalls  came.  Bulgaria,  Serbia, 
and  Greece  made  war  upon  Turkey.  Italy  joined 
them  later.  IMost  of  the  Balkans  was  lost  to  the  Slav 

354 


CONCLUSION 

Allies,  and  Italy  deprived  Turkey  of  her  last  pos- 
sessions in  northern  Africa. 

I  have  met  few  Turks  who  did  not  look  upon 
this  loss  of  territory  as  a  blessing  in  disguise.  In 
fact,  I  have  met  many  who  were  of  the  opinion 
that  the  Turks  should  surrender  more,  by  giving 
the  Arabs  and  Armenians  their  freedom. 

With  the  Balkan  and  Italian  wars  over  in  1912, 
the  Young  Turk  government  attempted  to  set  its 
house  in  order.  But  that  was  not  easy.  The  old 
regime  was  still  strong,  especially  in  the  provinces. 
The  reformers  of  the  Party  of  Union  and  Progress, 
as  the  Young  Turks  style  themselves  officially, 
found  a  great  deal  of  passive  resistance.  A  good 
impulse  might  start  in  Stamboul,  but  there  was  no 
assurance  that  it  would  get  very  far  in  the  provinces. 

Nor  was  the  Party  of  Union  and  Progress  an 
aggregation  of  angels.  It  caused  the  assassination 
of  one  of  its  best  men,  Nazim  Pasha,  then  Ottoman 
Minister  of  War.  In  January,  1913,  he  fell  a 
victim  of  his  own  good  intentions.  Nazim  Pasha 
was  a  liberal  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word.  One 
of  his  ideals  was  to  run  the  government  in  such  a 
manner  that  the  non-Osmanli  subjects  of  the  em- 
pire would  for  once  feel  that  they  were  partners 
in  the  state  instead  of  mere  chattels. 

It  has  been  said  that  Enver  Pasha  caused  Nazim 
Pasha  to  be  murdered.  The  many  attempts  I 
have  made  to  run  down  this  story  have  failed.  The 
fact  that  Enver  Pasha  stepped  into  the  shoes  of  the 
assassinated  Young  Turk  leader  cannot  be  consid- 
ered conclusive  evidence  that  Enver  Pasha  perpe- 
trated this  foul  act. 

355 


FROM   BERLIN   TO  BAGDAD 

Tlie  Youii^'  Turk  govcrmiu'iil  had  its  quota  of 
lliiovrs,  of  course.  No  ullompl,  Iiaving  ever  been 
miulc  in  Turkey  to  get  inlelligence  and  eflSciency 
into  g<>V(M-!imenl  ofTicials  and  emj)loyees,  tlie  ad- 
niinistralion  of  jnihlic  aliairs  remained  very  much 
wlial  it  had  been  under  Abdul  Ilamid.  Tliere  was 
ilie  same  ineapacil y,  Ihe  same  ine{)tness,  the  same 
indolence,  the  same  lack  of  civic  spirit. 

As  to  the  reasons  why  Turkey  entered  the  Euro- 
pean war  I  have  said  enough  elsewhere.  I  have 
taken  the  word  of  Ottoman  government  oflicials 
for  that. 

That  was  the  ])olilical  background  of  Turkey. 

I  nuisL  say  thai  the  Young  Turks  had  made 
a  good  many  improvements  in  and  about  the  capi- 
tal. With  the  elinu'nation  of  the  pest  of  dogs  in 
Constantinople  came  a  better  regard  for  public 
health.  For  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the 
city  the  streets  were  kept  (;lean.  The  pavement 
was  imi)roved,  and  by  1915  Constantinople  was 
cleaner  than  most  American  cities.  The  streets 
were  flushed  twice  dail\'  when  it  was  necessary,  and 
"white-wings"  swept  them  during  the  day. 

As  the  war  broke  out  a  survey  for  a  modern 
sewerage  system  was  being  completed.  The  police 
department  had  been  imi>roved,  and  the  attempt 
was  being  made  to  better  the  woefully  inefficient 
fire  department.  Perhaps  the  greatest  blessing  of 
the  change  in  government  was  that  the  i)lain  man 
came  near  getting  a  square  deal  before  the  law. 
The  old  Moslem  kadi  had  made  room  for  a  judge 
not  uninclined  to  be  just  so  long  as  he  could  afford 
it.     Government  and  jurisprudence  were  still  cor- 

356 


CONCLUSION 

nipt,  as  seen  from  the  Occidental  point  of  view,  but 
for  the  East  they  were  not  bad  at  all. 

As  a  foreigner  in  Constantinople  I  came  now 
and  then  in  contact  with  the  police  administration. 
I  must  say  that  I  found  the  oflBcials  uniformly 
polite  and  willing  to  oblige.  It  must  not  be  over- 
looked, however,  that  in  the  eyes  of  the  Turkish 
oflBcial  classes  I  was  somewhat  of  a  personage.  One 
becomes  that  in  Constantinople  after  one  has  had 
an  audience  with  the  Sultan  and  is  acquainted  with 
the  ministers  of  the  government.  That,  I  suppose, 
would  be  the  case  in  many  other  parts  of  the  world. 

But  I  had  occasion  also  to  watch  the  treatment 
by  the  police  of  the  common  classes  of  the  city. 
So  long  as  the  person  dealing  with  the  police  was 
polite  good  treatment  was  assured.  It  never  pays 
to  "rile"  a  Turk.  To  do  that  is  an  invitation  to 
him  to  show  his  uglier  traits,  and  these,  unfortunate- 
ly, are  all  more  or  less  related  to  brutality.  But 
that  is  the  East  of  it.  Of  the  Turkish  as  of  the 
Russian  official  it  may  be  said: 

^'Grattez  le  Russe  et  trouvez  le  Tartar!'* 

Upon  this  flinty  reality  impinged  soon  the 
want  of  the  population.  It  was  not  a  pleasant 
spectacle.  Some  of  the  entries  in  my  journal  of 
those  days  would  make  pity-rousing  reading. 

The  government  being  for  the  greater  part  in 
the  hands  of  Tiu'ks,  discrimination  against  non- 
Turks  ensued.  Stamboul  and  Scutari,  the  Turkish 
quarters  of  the  city,  always  got  the  lion's  share  of 
the  food.  That  was  bad  enough  so  far  as  the 
stomach  was  concerned.  But  the  effect  of  it  went 
much  further. 

357 


FROISr   BERLIN  TO  R AC. DAD 

Ajjain  il  was  sliown  that  while  the  Greeks  and 
Arineiiiaiis  niiglil  pay  taxes,  and  do  sncli  work  in 
the  armies  as  tlieir  doiibtiul  vahie  as  Ottoman 
soliliers  permitted,  they  really  had  no  place  in  the 
heart  of  the  Ottoman  jjovernment.  They  were 
still  steiK'hiMnii  to  whom  one  threw  the  crusts, 
to  whom,  in  the  case  of  the  Armenians,  came  all 
the  abuse. 

I  luive  known  hundreds  of  Greeks  and  Armenians 
whom  tliis  conduct  of  the  government  estranged, 
Togetlier  with  their  Turkish  compatriots  these 
people  had  hoped  that  Turkey  would  continue  and 
that  better  days  would  come.  But  again  it  was 
made  clear  to  them  that  they  were  in  the  empire, 
not  of  the  empire. 

Those  were  sad  days  in  front  of  the  bakeshops. 
The  lines  would  form  in  the  night,  and  often,  when 
dawn  came,,  only  a  few  of  the  bread-liners  would 
get  the  ration  their  tickets  entitled  them  to.  The 
bread  of  Constantinople  in  other  days  liad  been 
very  good.  It  had  formed  at  least  fifty  per  cent, 
of  the  people's  sustenance. 

With  a  few  olives  added,  a  slice  of  ehnek  made  a 
meal.  For  a  few  paras  one  could  get  a  glass  of  wine 
or  a  cup  of  coffee.  These  things  and  a  few  ciga- 
rettes were  all  that  a  large  part  of  the  population 
expected.  In  the  summer  one  could  get  vegetables 
enough,  and,  when  times  were  good,  meat,  gener- 
ally mutton,  could  be  had.  But  bread  and  olives 
were  the  food  staples.   It  was  now  hard  to  get  them. 

More  corn  was  eaten.  For  a  time  there  was 
enough  of  this.  But  the  supply  of  that  also  failed. 
Then  came  famine  to  Constantinople. 


CONCLUSION 

Prices  had  soared  steadily  ever  since  Turkey  en- 
tered the  war.  In  October,  1916,  they  were  no  longer 
to  be  reached.  Bread  now  cost  four  times  what  it 
was  before  the  war.  Olives  were  hard  to  get  at 
any  price.  Meat  was  five  times  what  it  had  cost 
before.  Sugar  sold  at  eight  medjidiehs  the  oka — 
about  $3.50  an  American  pound. 

Even  coffee  was  hard  to  get.  The  government 
increased  the  taxes  on  tobacco.  There  was  not 
a  thing,  in  fact,  that  did  not  sell  at  four  times  the 
former  price.  Clothing,  if  it  was  cheap,  cost  three 
times  what  it  had  cost  in  1914.  Coal  could  no 
longer  be  had,  and  there  were  times  when  stove 
wood  and  charcoal  even  were  hard  to  get,  though 
there  is  still  much  forest  within  easy  reach  of  Con- 
stantinople. Petroleum  also  gave  out,  and  the  tallow 
that  would  have  made  candles  had  to  be  eaten. 

By  that  time  conditions  were  very  much  the 
same  throughout  Central  Europe.  But  in  Germany 
and  Austria-Himgary  wages  at  least  had  also  shown 
a  tendency  to  go  up.  Not  so  in  Turkey.  Men  and 
women  continued  to  draw  the  meager  wage  they 
had  earned  for  a  decade,  and  the  storekeepers  were 
now  taxed  to  an  extent  that  left  them  little,  despite 
the  extortionate  prices  they  were  asking  for  their 
wares.  The  Turkish  government  was  mobilizing 
the  paras  of  the  poor  as  elsewhere  the  Heller  and 
the  Pfennig  were  being  mobilized.  But  the  Turkish 
government  did  this  in  a  more  brutal  manner.  It 
simply  took  from  the  individual  without  giving 
him  a  chance  to  earn  more.  Instead  of  exploiting 
the  labor  of  the  man,  it  deprived  liim  of  the  little 
be  needed  and  expected. 

359 


FRO^r   BERLIN  TO   BAGDAD 

Tlio  needs  of  \\\c  i!:oyvruT\\cn\  l)(M*n<^-  many  and 
hroad  in  scope,  it  was  soon  discovered  lliat  even 
the  Tnrkish  ])oi>ulalion  could  not  he  spared.  The 
tax-collector  call(>d  on  all,  and  was  adamantine 
with  everyhody. 

The  non-Turk  population  was  soon  hied  white. 
A  few  of  its  niemhers  stood  in  well  with  the  clique 
in  Stamhoul.  They  were  spared.  Especially  was 
this  the  case  with  certain  Greeks  and  espaniole 
Jews  who  acted  as  the  minions  in  the  economic 
hlood-letting  that  w^as  going  on.  A  score  or  so 
grew  rich,  and  there  is  no  reason  for  the  assump- 
tion that  their  masters  in  the  Ottoman  govern- 
ment escaped  with  clean  hands,  Enver  Pasha 
excepted. 

It  got  to  he  the  turn  of  the  Turkish  population. 

There  was  by  that  time  not  a  single  Turkish 
household  in  the  empire  that  did  not  have  all  of 
its  ahle-hodied  men  of  military  age  at  the  front 
or  in  the  barracks.  What  fighting  there  was  done 
in  the  Caucasus  and  in  Mesopotamia  was  done  by 
Turks.  The  Ottoman  Greek  is  of  no  value  as  a 
soldi(M',  and  the  Armenian  was  no  longer  trusted. 
The  former  was  employed  in  the  sanitary  service 
and  on  the  lines  of  communication;  the  latter  built 
roads,  dug  trenches,  and  acted  as  beast  of  burden. 
That  meant  that  the  Turkish  population  lost  all 
the  blood  on  the  battle-fields. 

I  knew  the  family  of  a  Turkish  major  who  used 
to  hold  forth  as  an  artillery  observation  officer  in 
the  bomb-proof  in  the  crow^n  of  Atchi  Baba.  The 
man  had  taken  a  liking  to  me  and  did  the  very  un- 
Moslem  thing  of  introducing  me  to  his  "house- 

.'5(iO 


CONCLUSION 

hold."  He  was  getting  the  munificent  pay  of  six- 
teen pounds  Turkish  a  month,  about  $70.  Private 
means  there  were  none.  His  "household"  con- 
sisted of  a  wife  and  five  daughters. 

Out  of  his  pay  the  major  kept  enough  to  buy 
the  cheapest  of  cigarettes — sixiemes.  Now  and 
then  he  had  to  have  a  uniform  and  a  pair  of  boots. 
There  were  a  few  other  things  absolutely  needed, 
and  there  were  mess  expenses. 

Before  the  war  that  $70  had  gone  mucK  further, 
and  the  major  had  found  the  time  to  do  some  sort 
of  clerical  work  at  night.  Now,  however,  things 
were  different. 

To  get  a  "reasonable  amount  of  food  for  her  chil- 
dren the  wife  sold  and  pawned  everything  she  could 
spare.  At  one  time  the  family  of  the  major  had 
been  better  off,  and  the  house,  which  he  still  owned, 
contained  many  things  of  value,  such  as  fine 
rugs,  articles  of  beaten  copper,  engraved  brasses, 
good  vases,  and  some  jewelry. 

The  major's  heart  almost  broke  when  he  had  to 
part  with  these  things.  But,  rather  than  have  the 
family  go  hungry,  he  ordered  his  wife  to  sell  them. 
But  she  got  little  for  them.  Just  then  everybody 
was  in  the  market  with  articles  of  that  sort.  There 
were  thousands  of  families  in  Constantinople  who 
had  to  sell  and  pawn  rugs,  copper,  vases,  laces, 
jewelry,  and  the  like. 

The  dealers  knew  this  and  were  not  likely  to  pay 
good  prices,  for  that  reason.  They,  too,  found  it 
hard  to  get  cash.  Nobody  bought.  So  it  happened 
in  the  end  that  the  fine  rugs  and  carpets  were 
combed  into  shoddy  fiber,  and  that  the  brasses 

361 


FROM   BEKI-IN   TO   HACiDAI) 

and  copper  iilonsils  woro  coiivcilol  iiilo  annmini- 
tion.  Tlio  only  lliing  that  hronghl  a  good  price 
al  all  was  gold.  l?nl  with  that  only  the  nninfonned 
and  drsju-rale  paii rd. 

In  the  end  iJie  major  sold  his  house.  Real  estate 
was  not  in  keen  demand  just  then.  There  is  no 
donhl  that  the  money  brought  by  the  sale  did  not 
last  Acry  long.  When  I  saw  the  major  last  he 
was  much  depressed. 

"I  am  disgusted  witli  life,  vion  cher  capitai7ie!'*  he 
said.  "I  have  been  willing  to  give  my  own  life 
for  my  country.  But  I  cannot  reconcile  myself 
to  the  fact  that  my  family  is  suffering  from  want, 
almost  because  of  what  I  am  doing.  What  will 
happen  to  my  dependents  in  case  I  should  be  car- 
ried off,'*  The  small  pension  they  will  get  will  not 
keep  them  in  bread  nowadays.  Is  that  all  the 
government  can  do  for  the  men  in  the  field?" 

For  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  the  Osmanli 
race  its  women  began  to  work  for  their  living.  At 
first  this  went  no  further  than  the  making  of  laces 
and  embroideries  at  home.  But  that  did  not  pay. 
Material  was  high  in  price  and  the  market  was  not 
good.  In  the  end  no  buyers  of  that  sort  of  thing 
could  be  found  at  -all. 

Before  the  sphere  of  woman  labor  could  be  ex- 
tended, many  old  customs  and  prejudices  had  to  be 
thrown  down.  The  Sheik-ul-Islam — head  of  the 
Mohammedan  religion  next  to  the  Sultan-Caliphe 
— was  a  man  of  liberal  mind.  He  let  it  be  under- 
stood that  these  were  extraordinary  times  and  that 
many  of  the  rules  of  seclusion  would  have  to  be 
cast  aside.    For  the  time  being,  at  any  rate,  women 

36^ 


CONCLUSION 

would  have  to  take  care  of  themselves  as  best  they 
might. 

But  at  first  the  opportunities  were  few.  Turkey 
is  the  land  of  home  industry  and  small  shops.  The 
field  of  manufacture  is  very  small,  moreover,  and 
just  then  it  was  impossible  to  get  the  raw  materials 
that  were  needed. 

The  government,  however,  had  realized  that 
something  would  have  to  be  done  to  employ 
the  women.  There  was  much  muttering  in  the 
army.  Officers  and  men  were  in  an  ugly  mood. 
They  wanted  their  women  folk  better  provided 
for. 

Some  German  economic  experts  were  sent  for, 
and  under  their  direction  the  organization  of  woman 
labor  was  undertaken.  First  of  all  the  greater  pro- 
duction of  food  was  taken  in  hand.  For  that  pur- 
pK)se  many  of  the  Turkish  city  women  were  sent  to 
the  farms  in  western  Anatolia  and  in  Thrace.  That 
helped  quite  a  bit.  A  further  alleviation  was 
effected  by  removing  from  all  industries  men  who 
were  doing  work  that  could  be  done  by  women. 
Again  German  efficiency  and  thoroughness  came 
to  the  assistance  of  the  Turks.  In  the  winter  of 
1917  the  situation  was  well  in  hand. 

It  is  altogether  unlikely  that  the  Turkish  woman 
will  ever  again  return  to  the  state  that  was  hers 
before  the  war.  She  has  tasted  the  sweets  of  self- 
reliance,  as  have  her  sisters  in  Central  Europe,  and 
it  will  take  but  little  effort  on  her  part  to  make 
her  emancipation  complete. 

But  these  measures  of  relief  always  benefited 
the  Turks  more  than  others.     It  was  a  case  of 

363 


FROiM   BERLIN  TO  BAGDAD 

"nalivisni."  Little  attention  was  given  the  non- 
Mosloni  i)opulalion. 

I'liou^li  ilie  Levantine  Greeks  liave  the  reputa- 
tion of  heiii^'  a])lc  U)  lake  care  of  llieniselves,  they 
no  longer  had  the  oj^portunity  to  do  that  as  well 
as  formerly.  True,  they  were  given  the  crumbs 
and  crusts  and  they  did  much  witJi  them,  but  these 
would  not  go  around.  The  Armenians  were  still 
worse  off.  Their  sharpness  in  trade  was  of  no 
value  now.  The  government  might  think  twice 
before  it  put  a  Greek  food-shark  in  jail.  In  the 
case  of  an  Armenian  no  such  consideration  was 
shown.  When  it  came  to  menial  labor  there  were 
the  Kurds,  who  as  hamah  (carriers)  have  long  been 
an  institution  of  the  Ottoman  Empire. 

Greek  and  Armenian  women  had  in  the  past 
worked  themselves  round  -  shouldered  and  blind 
making  lace  and  doing  needlework.  They  were 
getting  on  an  average  two  dollars  a  week  for  this 
when  the  war  broke  out.  The  younger  women 
lived  with  their  families,  and  the  older  ones  with 
relatives.  Often  they  would  club  together  and 
then  live  four  or  five  in  a  small  flat  or  house. 

Life  had  little  good  in  store  for  them  even  then, 
but  now  it  held  nothing  at  all.  A  population  in 
want  does  not  buy  laces  and  embroideries. 

So  the  same  old  thing  came  to  pass.  Before  long 
the  streets  of  Pera  were  overrun  with  soliciting 
females.  It  ceased  to  be  a  rare  thing  to  have 
mothers  cast  about  for  a  man  of  means  to  take  care 
of  their  daughters.  Secret  agencies  for  this  pur- 
pose sprang  into  existence.  The  business  soon 
set  up  regular  standards  and  prices.    The  young  and 

364 


CONCLUSION 

pretty  were  disposed  of  privately;  the  others  sold 
themselves  in  public. 

But  they  had  a  peculiar  person  in  charge  of  the 
police  of  Constantinople — one  Bedri  Bey.  The 
chief  was  in  some  respects  as  un-Eastern  as  he 
well  could  be.  He  wanted  no  soliciting  on  the 
streets.  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  raid  hotels, 
and  houses  that  had  no  license  for  their  trade.  The 
police  station  of  the  Galata  Serai  in  Pera  was  each 
night  full  of  women  who  had  been  taken  from  the 
street,  especially  the  Gran'  rue  de  Pera.  They 
were  fined  in  a  merciless  manner  twice,  and  then 
they  went  to  jail — that  is,  if  they  had  no  certificate 
of  inspection.  Since  many  of  the  women  were 
not  professionals  at  all,  but  had  been  driven  to  this 
step  by  utter  want,  the  revenues  of  the  Galata 
Serai  police  station  were  good  just  then. 

I  used  to  wonder  how  these  women  managed  to 
pay  the  heavy  fines.  That  they  were  able  to  pay 
them  caused  me  to  beheve  that  the  hard-luck 
stories  they  told  were  inventions.  If  a  woman 
could  still  pay  a  fine  of  at  least  five  Turkish 
pounds  there  was  no  good  reason  why  she  should 
solicit. 

One  day,  however,  I  managed  to  get  permission 
for  the  inspection  of  some  of  the  jails  about  Con- 
stantinople. After  I  had  seen  them  I  decided  that 
there  was  still  a  greater  extreme  than  that  which 
had  driven  the  women  on  the  street.  And  then 
we  must  not  forget  that  in  the  East,  where  once 
it  was  the  practice  of  young  women  to  earn  their 
dowries  in  this  manner,  they  have  their  own  notions 
about  such  things. 

365 


FROM    niORLlN    ro    l}A(il)AI) 

N'irinc  ilioro  is  a  luxmy,  not  a  necessity,  as  it  is 
ri'^ardod  in  tlic  Occitlonl. 

I  had  occasion  one  day  to  discuss  this  with  Bedri 
l^cy  in  Le  Petit  Chib,  of  which  we  both  were 
memhers. 

1  discovered  that  he  was  interested  in  the  matter 
from  a  purely  hygienic  angle.  He  wanted  those 
women  to  undergo  inspection.  Later  I  learned  that 
the  man  was  much  better  than  that  viewpoint 
would  indicate. 

He  scotched  the  "white  slave"  traffic  of  Con- 
stantinople, and  to  do  so  he  even  invaded  so  sacred 
a  juTcinct  as  tlie  Russian  consulate  in  the  capital. 
Quite  boldly,  he  one  day  arrested  several  of  the 
employees  of  the  consulate  on  a  charge  of  traffic 
in  women,  and,  what  is  more,  he  sent  them  to  the 
worst  jail  in  Turkey.  Racial  antipathy  may  have 
had  something  to  do  with  that.  At  any  rate,  it 
was  Bedri  Bey  who  broke  the  back  of  the  trade  in 
flesh  in  Constantinople. 

Bedri  Bey  regretted  that  I  had  never  seen  a 
certain  quarter  in  Galata  before  he  cleaned  it  up. 
But  I  had  heard  of  the  quarter.  I  understand  that 
the  worst  in  Cairo  and  Port  Said  was  no  circum- 
stance to  it. 

Into  tlie  houses  and  hovels  of  that  quarter  were 
sold  girls  from  all  over  adjacent  Europe.  Most  of 
them  came  from  Rumania,  and  the  trade  was  en- 
tirely in  the  hands  of  Russians  and  Greek  Levan- 
tines. 

Veritable  boatloads  of  young  women  were  dumped 
into  this  modern  Moloch — to  auuise  the  very  dregs 
of  humanity,  the  wharf-rats  and  Kurd  havials  of 

3(i6 


CONCLUSION 

Constantinople.  As  a  little  starter  in  cleaning  out 
this  place  Bedri  Bey  caused  the  arrest  and  con- 
viction of  some  three  hundred  men  and  women  who 
were  connected  with  the  traflSc. 

Most  of  these  were  subjects  of  other  countries — 
Russia,  Rumania,  Greece,  Italy,  and  Austria.  Not 
a  few  were  of  that  peculiar  dual-citizenship  which 
makes  a  European  born  in  Turkey  a  citizen  of  the 
country  with  whose  consulate  the  birth  is  registered. 

That  these  people  should  appeal  to  their  respec- 
tive consular  officials  for  protection  I  can  under- 
stand. But  I  must  marvel  at  the  hardihood  of  a 
government  which  in  such  cases  would  interfere 
with  the  operation  of  the  law,  even  if  it  be  merely  an 
Ottoman  law. 

The  consuls  who  demanded  the  release  of  any 
of  the  traffickers  met  the  wTong  man  in  Bedri 
Bey.  He  went  out  of  his  way  to  be  unobliging. 
The  traders  in  flesh  were  held  and  sentenced  and 
the  provisions  of  the  capitulations  were  disregarded 
by  the  Ottoman  government  for  the  first  time.  The 
capitulations  have  since  then  been  abolished. 

On  the  whole,  the  effect  of  the  war  has  not  been 
so  disastrous  to  the  population  in  Constantinople 
as  it  was  elsewhere  in  the  countries  of  the  Central 
Powers  group.  There  was  not  so  much  to  pull 
down  in  Turkey.  Those  who  fell  did  not  fall 
so  far. 

Life  in  the  East  is  still  primitive  in  the  case  of 
the  majority.  Want  and  famine  did  not  bring 
much  mental  anguish.  There  was  refinement  in 
Constantinople,  of  course.  But  those  whom  it 
blessed   were   comparatively   few   in   number   and 

24  367 


FROM   BERLIN   TO   BAGDAD 

j,'onornlly  llioy  wore  al>lo  to  wcatlior  tlio  storm — 
out  in  Iho  country,  if  in  no  otlau'  manner. 

Tliore  was  little  privation  at  any  time  in  the 
Ottoman  provinces — tlie  vilayets.  Trans])ortation 
was  no  i)rol)lem  out  tliere.  The  breadstufFs  that 
could  not  be  sold  could  at  least  be  consumed. 
AMien  in  Conslautinople  ^ood  wlieat  flour  was  al- 
ready a  rare  article  the  little  watermills  in  the 
Taurus  and  Amanus  mountains  were  still  producing 
the  best  in  that  line. 

Thirty  miles  away  from  the  larger  towns  living 
was  but  little  dearer  than  it  had  been  before  the 
war.  IMany  things  could  no  longer  be  had,  of 
course.  For  the  first  time  within  the  memory  of 
those  living  was  there  no  coffee.  The  scarcity  of 
sugar  bothered  nobody  out  there.  In  Anatolia  and 
Syria  much  honey  is  produced. 

Even  such  towns  as  Smyrna  and  Damascus  were 
never  greatly  affected  by  the  shortage  of  food. 
The  same  is  true  of  Aleppo,  Adana,  and  Tarsus. 
So  long  as  one  was  willing  to  put  up  with  the  bill 
of  fare  of  the  country  there  was  no  need  for  going 
hungry.  But  there  is  little  I  can  say  for  the  cook- 
ing of  the  Near  East.  Some  of  the  dishes  are 
palatable  enough — or  they  would  be  if  there  was  no 
mutton  tallow  in  them. 

I  believe  that  the  peoples  of  the  Ottoman  Em- 
pire have  suffered  less  from  the  food  shortage  than 
any  other  in  the  Old  World.  AYant  was  acute 
and  chronic  only  in  Constantinople  and  its  vicinity. 
But  what  the  population  was  spared  in  that  respect 
was  certainly  exacted  in  the  heavy  tolls  in  lives. 
The   losses  of   the  Turks  on   Gallipoli,   in   Meso- 

368 


CONCLUSION 

potamia,  and  in  the  Caucasus  were  large.  They 
came  at  a  time  when  the  wounds  inflicted  by  the 
Balkan  War  were  not  yet  healed.  How  many 
Armenians  perished  is  hard  to  say.  The  Greeks, 
however,  suffered  no  losses  of  that  sort. 

If  Turkey,  so  far  as  the  Osmanli  are  concerned, 
has  to-day  a  million  fit  young  men  she  must  con- 
sider herself  very  fortunate.  War  has  bled  the 
race  white  and  one  must  agree  with  Halideh  Edib 
Hannym's  view  that  the  future  of  her  people  rests 
with  its  women. 

Of  the  Turkish  races  the  women  are  the  better 
element.  The  men  have  been  ruined  by  the  posi- 
tion of  their  race — that  of  a  conqueror  who  sub- 
scribes to  the  fallacy  that  might  is  right. 

That  seems  a  little  illogical  at  first.  It  might  be 
so  in  any  other  case.    But  it  is  not  in  this. 

What  the  Turk  has  been  in  the  past  to  Armenian, 
Greek,  Syrian,  Kurd,  Arab,  the  Balkan  Slavs,  and 
the  Bulgar,  not  to  mention  all  the  others,  he  has 
also  been  toward  his  own  women.  He  managed  to 
hold  them  all  in  subjection. 

Favors  he  has  shown  to  all  of  them,  but  they  were 
still  favors.  That  those  over  whom  he  lorded  it 
had  rights  has  not  often  occurred  to  the  Turk.  He 
will  go  out  of  his  way  to  oblige,  but  is  hard  to  con- 
vince that  not  all  the  things  he  gives  away  are 
peculiarly  his  own. 

The  Turkish  woman  has  developed  an  odd  sort 
of  class  spirit.  Turkey  is  the  one  country  in  which 
men  and  women  are  in  separate  camps  mentally. 
In  the  past  the  Turkish  woman  has  associated  with 
no  other  men  than  those  of  her  family — benign 

369 


FROM   BERLIN   TO  BAGDAD 

tyrants.  Of  the  ^rrut  outside  \voil<l  she  knows 
only  the  women.  In  I  he  course  of  a  ht'e  slie  might 
meet  tliousands  of  women,  but  always  the  same 
men:     ller  father,  hrothers,  hushaml,  and  sons. 

Small  wonder,  then,  that  Turkey  is  a  dual-world, 
a  world  in  which  men  and  women  do  not  think  at 
all  alike. 

Tlie  mental  capacity  of  the  Turk  is  too  great, 
even  if  ill-directed  and  misapplied,  to  i>ermit  the 
women  of  the  race  to  deteriorate  mentally  under 
the  system  of  seclusion  that  has  been  adhered  to 
in  the  past.  Mental  vigor  and  humility  have  been 
the  heirloom  of  the  daughters  of  the  race. 

The  meeting  of  these  two  qualities  has  produced 
in  the  Turkish  woman  a  fine  sort  of  rationalism — 
a  rationalism  which  is  devoid  of  that  grossness  it 
takes  on  when  tainted  with  materialism. 

It  may  seem  trifling  to  mention  here  that  no 
Turkish  woman  will  touch  money  so  long  as  she 
can  avoid  it.  There  is  a  rule  among  these  people 
that  money  intended  for  a  woman  is  placed  where 
she  can  take  it  after  the  giver  is  gone.  That  and 
similar  customs  have  fostered  in  the  Turkish  woman, 
and  preserved  to  the  race  as  a  whole,  a  degree  of 
unselfishness  and  honesty  which  is  not  only  hard  to 
match  in  the  East,  but  which  contains  also  what- 
ever promises  the  future  has  in  store  for  the  Turk. 

The  mind  of  the  Turanian  may  run  to  conquest 
and  oppression,  but  avarice  is  foreign  to  it.  The 
Turk  is  a  spendthrift;  he  is  improvident,  slovenly, 
self-indulgent,  obstinate,  and  egotistical. 

His  woman  is  the  very  opposite.  And  in  being 
that  she  has  saved  from  obliteration  the  qualities 

370 


CONCLUSION 

of  the  "four  hundred  tents  of  Osmanli"  who 
pitched  their  camp  in  1175  within  sight  of  the  By- 
zantian  frontier  post  of  Dorylseum  with  the  avowed 
intention  that  they  would  found  an  empire  by 
destroying  one. 

They  did  that  and  conquered  much  of  Europe 
besides. 

Whether  the  Turkish  woman  will  have  the  chance 
to  resuscitate  the  good  in  her  race,  or  whether  the 
star  of  the  Osmanli  has  set  forever,  is  one  of  the 
questions  which  the  Great  War  will  decide. 


THE   END 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    000  832  645    6 


